


Forbidden Fruit

by Nanaea



Series: Forbidden Fruit [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Community: grangerenchanted, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Not Canon Compliant, Not Happily Ever After, Oral Sex, POV Hermione Granger, Sad Ending, Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, Written Pre-Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanaea/pseuds/Nanaea
Summary: Prequel/Sequel toHermione's Detention. Tells the story of how she and Severus began their "relationship" and what happened after the detention.





	1. Celebrations

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first multi-chapter fanfic. When I finished _Hermione's Detention_ I had a lot of back story stuck in my head, and since my friend was itching for more, I figured why not?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione celebrates her eighteenth birthday with Ron and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was my attempt at 'explaining' what had happened after HBP (to hell with canon!), so that I could get on with the smut as I really didn't care much for plot when I started this story. This was also my first foray into writing slash.

It was Seventh year and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were back at Hogwarts. It was also Hermione’s eighteenth birthday and they were celebrating the same way they had celebrated just about everything since the end of the war, as a tangle of sweaty limbs in a large four poster bed. After they had worn Hermione out, Ron and Harry amused themselves with each other. Still lying in bed with them, she watched. Harry’s face showed pure bliss. She knew that feeling well; Ron was a patient and attentive lover with unbelievable stamina. Although she didn’t get to do it often, she enjoyed watching them. A gasp brought her attention back to Harry’s face but it was Ron’s eyes that caught hers. He smiled at her, looked at Harry questioningly and then back to her. Hermione studied Harry’s face, listening to his ragged breathing before her gaze traveled down the length of his lean body. She thought briefly about helping him out when she saw the state he was in, but decided she was really too tired to be arsed; besides, it would ruin the whole voyeurism thing.

"Give him a hand, Ron, he’s almost there."

"Good, ‘cause so am I."

Harry groaned his appreciation as Ron’s hand reached around and grasped him firmly. Hermione watched their faces. They both had their eyes closed and she could see the tension building in their Quidditch-toned bodies. _Nope, won’t be long now._ Harry’s breath caught in his throat and then he let out a long, shuddering sigh as Ron drove him over the edge into oblivion. It didn’t take Ron long to follow him into the void. 

Several minutes passed in silence. Hermione still watched them. When she reached out to brush Harry’s fringe out of his eyes he broke the silence, "Thanks, Hermione." His startling emerald eyes met hers. "Enjoy the show?"

"Of course she did." Ron had propped himself up on his elbow and was giving her a lopsided grin. "Didn’t you ‘Mione?" 

"Almost as much as she does when she’s in the middle of it, I’d wager," Harry added with a wink.

"Which is almost as much _you_ enjoy being in the middle, Harry."

Ron laughed, "She’s got you on that one, mate."

Harry chuckled too, "That she does, mate," then more softly, "that she does...."

"So, did you enjoy our gift?" Ron asked.

"Like you need to ask." Hermione felt her cheeks growing warmer.

Harry turned to face Ron, "Yeah, she screamed loud enough to wake half of Hogwarts; good thing the room’s silenced." 

Ron looked at them both in turn, a sheepish grin on his freckled face. "I was just checking."

"Yes, I did." Hermione gave him a warm smile. "This is one of the best birthday’s I’ve had; thank you both." With that she crawled cat-like over to them and, leaning across Harry, kissed Ron rather passionately. Hermione moaned against Ron’s mouth as Harry flicked his tongue over her nipple, his hands grabbing her around the waist. Breaking her kiss with Ron, Hermione turned her attentions to Harry. 

"I was feeling left out." He gave her a pathetic pout.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, "Well, we can’t have that now can we?" With that she lowered her lips to his and moaned again as she felt Ron pulling her back down between them. "Oh no you don’t, you two." She sighed as they both began to protest. "Breakfast is less then six hours away and I really need to get at least a few hours of sleep before I have to get back up; besides, you have Quidditch practice in the morning."

"C’mon, Hermione, just one more present?" Ron implored, one hand running softly over her skin.

Hermione quivered under his touch.

"Yeah, you know what they say, _’tis better to receive_...." 

"It’s _‘tis better to give_ , Harry," she chided softly. 

He grinned at her. "Right, and we want to give, don’t we, Ron?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically, "That’s right, mate," then looking at Hermione he said, "But, I think they’re both bloody fantastic."

"Oh, honestly! Don’t you two ever get tired?"

They looked at each other then shook their heads. 

"Nope, not really," Harry offered.

"Well, I do." She stretched languorously and yawned to prove her point.

"Alright, Hermione, you win. We’ll go back and get some sleep." With that Ron covered her mouth with his, stifling her objections.

Harry’s lips grazed her over-stimulated flesh as he slipped down her body, his tongue teasing, promising.

"No fair!" Hermione gasped as Harry reached the spot that was sure to melt her resistance. 

"Right wicked with that tongue, isn’t he?" Ron flashed a knowing grin at her before covering her mouth again.

Harry had her by the hips so she couldn’t get away from his probing tongue while Ron’s thumbs teased her nipples. They were overloading her senses and she felt like she was about to short out from the intensity. Ron’s mouth was still on hers swallowing her moans as her body shook in release beneath them, and then she was sinking down into the bed it seemed, the raging fire burning down to glowing embers that filled her body with a soft warmth. _Thank Merlin_ _they’ve stopped_ , she wasn’t sure how much more of that she could take. Harry was facing away from Ron, his head resting on her stomach, his hands still on her hips. Ron was propped on his elbow again, gazing at her, his free hand absently running through Harry’s already dishevelled hair. 

"Mmmm, I could fall asleep right here," Harry murmured.

"It wouldn’t be the first time," Ron stated, "but we should probably get back to our dormitory."

"Just five more minutes?" he pleaded.

"Ron’s right, Harry, we need to get back."

"Fine," groaned Harry, "but I don’t have to like it." 

He pushed himself up and climbed out of the bed with a seeker’s feline grace. Hermione watched the rippling play of sinuous muscles underneath his flesh as he dressed. When Ron got out of bed to dress she compared them. Ron was taller and broader shouldered than Harry and probably outweighed him by a stone or two, though neither one had an ounce of spare weight on them. Ron had finally grown into his hands and feet, and though he still retained a bit of his former ungainliness, he was far more confident in his bearing. He noticed her watching him and grinned at her, snapping her out of her reverie.

She decided that she had best get up as well, since Harry was already dressed and Ron was nearly so. They both stopped what they were doing and watched her as she moved off the bed and pulled her clothing back on. _Good thing I’m used to it_. She had never been anything less then completely comfortable with them. Being together like this had always seemed like such a natural extension of their friendship that she really wasn’t hyper aware of their nudity; although, she did appreciate the aesthetic pleasures of seeing them naked so she guessed that she could understand their reaction. _Boys_.... 

Harry picked up his invisibility cloak and folded it over his arm. "I’ll wait for you and Ron to make it back before I leave." He pulled out the Marauder’s Map, tapped it with his wand and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good."

They had found out quite quickly that they couldn’t all fit under Harry’s cloak anymore, at least, not if they wanted to be able to move quietly through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Hermione had begun researching alternatives to get them all to the Room of Requirements undetected. What she had discovered was that if they needed it, the room could hook up to the Floo Network. Of course, someone still had to go there first and bring the room into existence, concentrating on a working floo connection to the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry glanced at the map. "Good, the common room is empty." 

"I should hope so at this hour!" 

"You go first, Hermione." Ron held out the bag of floo powder.

Hermione took a handful and threw it into the fireplace saying, "Gryffindor Tower." Green flames shot up and swallowed her, spinning her through the castle until she was standing in the Gryffindor common room. She stepped out of the fireplace and waited for Ron who appeared seconds later. He reached up and brushed what must have been ashes off her cheek then kissed her. 

"Happy Birthday, Hermione."

She covered his hand with hers. "Thank you, Ron."

Harry appeared in the fireplace then, brushing soot of his robes. "Did I miss anything?" He wagged his eyebrows at them though it was hard to tell with his fringe hanging in his eyes.

"Not much, mate, I think we wore Hermione out."

"Mhmmm, I’m right knackered. Now off to bed with you two — shoo!"

"Uh-oh, there goes the Head Girl attitude again." Ron rolled his eyes. "C’mon, Harry, we’d better go."

"Alright." Harry placed a chaste kiss on Hermione’s cheek. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

"Thanks Harry," she said with a smile. "Goodnight."

Harry nodded. "Night."

"Goodnight, 'Mione."

"Night, Ron."

Hermione watched the two boys walk away, Ron’s arm casually flung around Harry’s shoulders, and she sighed. _I hope they get some sleep…._ She made her way up to the girls dormitory, quietly changed, and slipped into her bed. As soon as her head had hit the pillow she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	2. Reminiscences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's attention wanders during potions class and rouses Snape's interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is still a bit of me trying to wrap up those pesky canon details and finagling a reason for Snape and Hermione to end up together. It's not bad as far a corny plot devices go, I suppose. You wouldn't believe the amount of time I spent reading and re-reading the Occlumency lesson between Snape and Harry, trying to get my details on how it works as close to canon as possible. Of course, the fact that he can do it wandless, and without a verbal component is based purely on reading between the lines of the series.

Hermione woke up with a smile on her face. She lay there in bed stretching and yawning for a few minutes before deciding it was time to get up and dress for breakfast. When she had finished her usual morning ablution she went down to the Great Hall and found Harry and Ron already waiting for her.

"G’mornin’, ‘Mione." Ron greeted her around a mouthful of food.

"Good morning, Ron ... Harry."

"Mornin’, Hermione." Harry said between bites of toast. "Sleep well?"

"Mhmmm, like the dead."

"I wonder why?" Ron chuckled softly then asked her, "Gonna come watch Quidditch practice?"

"I don’t think so. I want to get to the library and do some studying."

Harry was incredulous, "Already? It’s only September, Hermione."

"It’s never too early to start studying, Harry, this is our N.E.W.T. year after all."

"If you say so." Harry shrugged, but neither he nor Ron seemed very convinced, and Hermione knew better than to press the issue.

Harry stood. "Well, mate, we should get out to the pitch."

"Right behind you, Harry." Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek before leaving. "See you latter, Hermione?"

"You know where I’ll be...." She smiled as he half nodded and half shook his head in exasperation with her study habits.

~*~

Hermione spent most of the day cloistered in the library, buried in stacks of musty old tomes, and the evening watching Ron and Harry playing wizard chess in the Gryffindor common room. She studied them, noting slight intimations in their exchanges that marked them as lovers. _I wonder if anyone else notices?_ It was commonly assumed that Ron and she were attached and none of them discouraged that belief. It was better for all of them that way, but she couldn’t help ruminating on whether anyone suspected that Harry was also involved in their affair, more so than even she was, if the truth were to be told. Hermione doubted if Harry and Ron would have ever even realised that they were attracted to one another if it hadn’t been for that first night. 

Powerful emotions had followed on the wake of the Dark Lord’s defeat, shock, relief, trepidation, euphoria.... The three of them had sequestered themselves from what was left of the Order to celebrate their survival in private, and everyone had respected their need to do so. It had all started with the innocent kiss she had placed on Harry’s lips; the one that had quickly turned so carnal it had shocked both of them, not to mention Ron. Feeling guilt-ridden, she had planted a kiss on Ron that was no less shocking for all that it had been intentional. She could clearly remember what happened next.

"Whoa, what was that?"

"I’m not sure."

"Did it feel like that with Harry?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded at them, still looking dazed.

"Ron...."

"What?"

"Kiss Harry."

"What?" they both balked at the idea.

"Just for the sake of curiosity; besides, I kissed both of you."

"That’s a bit different, Hermione."

"Yeah, you’re a girl."

"Oh, for goodness sake, who’s gonna find out?" she glared at both of them. "Quit being cowards."

That did it; she had known it would. They moved closer to each other, until their bodies were nearly touching, then stopped. It was obvious that neither one wanted to make the first move. Hermione tapped her foot impatiently, her hands on her hips. Ron took a deep breath and stooped just enough to bring their lips level. They both closed their eyes and leaned forward, looking for the entire world like they had each just bit into a particularly sour lemon. Hermione stifled a laugh. Their lips made contact and they both paused. Harry opened his mouth slightly and she saw Ron’s tongue slip inside Harry’s mouth. Both sets of eyes flew open and locked together, transfixed. Hermione could see their astonishment quite plainly. Their eyes closed again as they relaxed into the kiss. Harry moved forward almost imperceptibly, and Ron brought his hand around behind Harry’s neck deepening their kiss. Hermione was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to come up for air when Ron pulled away. They were both breathless and looked rather bewildered.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron was looking at Hermione desperate for some sort of answer as to what had just happened.

"It was hot," Hermione said, amused by their stunned looks. 

Harry was smiling. "Whatever it was, it was good."

Ron’s voice brought her back to the present, "Hermione?"

She blinked and looked over at him. "Hmmm?" 

"Just wondering where you went."

"I was just thinking."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"That first night, after Voldemort was defeated."

Both of them got a far-away look in their eyes, obviously they remembered it as well. Ron snapped back first. "Would you like to celebrate your birthday some more tonight?"

Harry perked up at the suggestion. "Yeah, we wouldn’t mind."

"Thanks, but no, I really need to get some sleep tonight."

"Alright," Ron turned to Harry, "Guess it’s just you and me tonight, mate."

Harry looked up from the chessboard grinning. "Check mate." 

"What?" Ron looked down at the board in surprise. "No bloody way!"

"Looks like Harry’s getting better, Ron."

"Yeah, looks like. Guess I’ll have to stop going easy on him." He winked at Harry.

Hermione stood up, stretching. "I’m going to bed now." She kissed Ron on the cheek, "Night, Ron." 

"Good night, Hermione."

Putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder she said, "Congratulations, Harry, and good night."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a quick squeeze. "Night."

~*~

Monday afternoon found Hermione sitting in Advanced Potions. She wasn’t sure why she was having so much trouble staying focused. Maybe it was her proximity to Ron and Harry, but her mind kept wandering to places it really shouldn’t be visiting while making a complicated potion. _What’s wrong with me today?_ She ran her finger down the list of ingredients for the second time, checking and rechecking what she had already added. She picked up the belladonna, offering up a silent prayer to the gods of potion-making to get her through this without it blowing up in her face.

__

So far, so good. Hermione relaxed a little. Memories came drifting through her mind again like wispy clouds on a summer’s day. That first night with Ron and Harry ... feel of their hands on her skin ... their lips ... inquisitive fingers and tongues ... exploring ... tasting ... all enthusiasm and clumsy naiveté ... nervous anticipation ... and then the moment of truth ... Ron’s gentle patience ... Harry’s whispered endearments....

Hermione shook her head trying to clear her mind and regain her concentration. _Where was I?_ She ran her finger over the list once more. _Belladonna ... belladonna ... ah, there it is!_ The next ingredient was a pinch of powdered moonstone which she added as she stirred the brew carefully, watching as it swirled hypnotically in the cauldron; just like her memories were swirling. They were celebrating her making Head Girl ... she was straddling Harry ... his hands on her hips ... her head thrown back on Ron’s shoulder ... Ron’s finger stroking the one spot that always made her come undone ... his other hand cupping her breast ... thumb brushing feather-light circles over sensitive flesh ... whispering in her ear, ‘ _C’mon, ‘Mione. I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like it....’_

Her hands were trembling; she could feel her pulse racing and her skin trying to flush. _Oh, for Merlin’s sake!_ Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Hermione brought her attention back to the potion she was stirring, but as the silvery mist coiled upwards her thoughts drifted in lazy spirals with it. Acquiescing ... and then, _oh, sweet Merlin_ ... caught between them ... Ron and Harry moving in perfect counterpoint rhythm ... slick with their mingled sweat ... crying out in ecstasy ... like dominoes they followed her, collapsing into a shuddering heap....

She felt his eyes on her before she had even looked up. Professor Snape sat behind his desk with his fingers steepled and his penetrating gaze riveted on her. Their eyes met and she instinctively knew he had seen everything, and that he was the reason for her rampant memories. He looked her over with a frank appraisal that made Hermione shiver. When his dark eyes found hers again, he arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, ‘ _My, my, Miss Granger, who would have guessed?_ ’

She wanted to look away and hide her embarrassment, but his eyes held hers, searching, drawing out her secrets. First day back at Hogwarts ... holding Ron’s hand ... walking back and forth in front of a blank wall ... a door appearing ... a private room ... a large bed ... Harry emerging from under his cloak ... clothing discarded ... lying between them on the bed ... Ron taking her from behind ... thrusting slowly ... one arm pillowing her head ... his free hand running up and down her side ... Harry slowly descending ... trailing wet kisses ... pausing to suckle at each breast ... resuming his path ... circling his tongue around her navel ... sliding lower ... her body jerking as his tongue found it’s mark ... lost in sensation ... exploding.... 

Her whole body shuddered as the memory washed over her and still he held her captive with his gaze. Something flashed across his features, something that looked disturbingly similar to desire, and Hermione shivered again. 

"You all right, Hermione?"

"Huh?" she stared blankly at Harry.

"You all right?" he said with more concern in his voice.

"No." she shook her head absently before realising what he had asked. "I mean yes! I’m fine, Harry, thanks."

He didn’t look convinced.

"Really. I’m just having a little trouble concentrating today, that’s all."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure." She smiled half-heartedly at him.

She could tell that he didn't really believe her but what could she say; _‘I’m sorry, Harry, but Professor Snape just used Legilimency on me while I was reminiscing about being with you and Ron, and now I think he wants me?’_ Right, that would go over well. Harry went back to his potion and Hermione chanced a quick glance at Professor Snape. He was looking around the room gauging everyone's progress. _Good_. She was relieved that he seemed to have lost interest in her, but a part of her, a very small part that she didn’t want to acknowledge, was disappointed.

"Time’s up; bottle your potions and bring them to me before you leave."

Hermione carefully poured her brew into a small jar and stoppered it. The closer she got to Snape the faster her heart beat. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; after all, her potion had turned out well despite her distraction. When she reached his desk she sat her potion down while trying very hard not to look at him.

"You shouldn't allow your thoughts to wander in my class, Miss Granger, it could prove _dangerous_ ," his voice was a low, silken warning.

"I know, sir. It won't happen again." She was still avoiding him with her eyes.

"Be sure that it doesn't."

She turned and left the classroom as quickly as possible, nearly knocking over Draco in her haste to be out of there.

"Watch it, Granger."

"Sorry, Malfoy." _Sorry?_ She couldn't believe she had just apologised to Draco Malfoy. Apparently he couldn’t believe it either because he was staring at her dumbstruck. Unfortunately it didn't last long.

"Good," he sneered at her, "you should be."

"Shove off, Malfoy." Harry said as he and Ron came up alongside her.

"C’mon, Hermione, let’s get out of here." Ron took her hand and Hermione allowed herself to be led out of the classroom.

~*~

During dinner Hermione kept glancing up at the main table. She was replaying what had happened in Potions over and over in her head. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that his warning was less about the potentially lethal consequences of a ruined potion and more about the flash of desire that she had seen. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the sound of his voice; a bedroom voice, or definitely what she would consider one by the way it seemed to caress her with it’s intentions. Hermione rubbed at the gooseflesh that had broken out on her arms; she wasn't sure she liked the reaction that her insight had caused in her. _Best to just try and forget about it,_ she thought, but no matter how hard she tried it kept nagging at the back of her mind.

Hermione tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, trying to fall asleep. Every time she began to drift off she would see those intense, black eyes staring into her soul and startle awake again. Eventually she succumbed to exhaustion, sleeping fitfully between dreams of her professor watching her everywhere she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	3. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins to see Professor Snape in whole new light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is where I start to develop Hermione's attraction to Snape. I really wanted to keep him as close to canon as possible, and not gloss over his looks or unpleasant temperament. Honestly, this is how I see Snape. So, yeah. *shrugs* Oh, and there's less dialogue in this chapter, which was pretty much a first for me.

Professor Snape was not what Hermione would normally consider a handsome man. Of course, she didn’t consider him unattractive either. In fact, she had never really considered him at all ... until now. It had been two weeks since he had caught her daydreaming in his Potions class; two weeks since she thought she had seen a bright spark of desire melt those cold, black eyes for an instant. Maybe she had been wrong. Perhaps he hadn’t looked at her like he wanted to possess her, consume her, and leave her begging for more. She shivered at the memory. No, she had seen it, and if she hadn’t – what difference would it make? The damage had already been done. She was discovering a whole new way of looking at the Potions master, and it wasn’t very proper.

There was something about him, something hard to define. It had more to do with his manner, his commanding presence, than his looks. There was a raw sensuality about him, like he exuded sex. She was beginning to overlook his hooknose, his greasy hair, and his less than perfect teeth. Instead, she noticed the power and grace of the lean body lamentably hidden beneath layers of austere black fabric; the long, thin fingers that deftly chopped, crushed, and minced ingredients; and the single-minded focus and attention to detail that potion making required.

If Snape had an interest in her, he was certainly adept at hiding it. His usual scowling mask hadn’t slipped a fraction since that fateful moment. He looked at her no more, no less, and no differently than he had before. The same, however, could not be said of Hermione. She tried to be discreet, and he seemed not to have noticed, but all too often she found her gaze lingering on him. Today it was his hands and she stared, enchanted, as he posted directions on the blackboard in his crisp scrawl. She wondered what those hands could do to her ... for her ... and flushed from the images that came unbidden into her mind. 

It was halfway through class, and Hermione was considering the sharp angles of his face, when he caught her gawking at him. Her normal reaction would have been to quickly look away and hope that he thought it just a passing glance, but something in his eyes held her rapt. _He knows; oh, gods, he knows!_ Snape’s features showed a hint of amusement before he looked away. Mortified, Hermione somehow managed to keep her eyes off him for the rest of the class.

~*~

That night, as Hermione lay in bed, she began to think about her professor again. The logical part of her brain was trying to figure out why she was suddenly so obsessed with him. When she wasn’t able to come up with a rational explanation, she tried to push it out of her mind. She had to stop thinking about him. He had already caught her eyeing him as if he was a coveted book that she couldn’t wait to get her hands on. At this rate, she was going to be fantasising about him.... _Oh, no._ It was already too late. Hermione groaned as images of their naked bodies locked together flooded her mind. She tried to shake it off, to think of something – anything else, but she couldn’t; the throbbing between her legs wouldn’t let her.

Hermione fidgeted and tossed in her bed, trying to deny her arousal. But no matter what position she ended up in she couldn’t get comfortable, and within minutes she was turning over again. It was hopeless, she knew. She wasn’t used to depriving herself, and the ache refused to be ignored. Hermione gave up, not caring anymore that it was wrong. She pulled her wand out from under her pillow and cast a privacy charm around her curtained bed before putting it back. She knew the other girls probably wouldn’t hear her but she didn’t want to take any chances. Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to fantasies. 

She ran her hands slowly over her body imagining that it was _him_ touching her. As her hands slid over her breasts she felt her nipples respond. Working a few buttons loose, she slipped a hand underneath the bodice to twiddle a stiff peak with her fingers and moaned softly. Her free hand roamed down her stomach and came to a rest just below her navel. With her fingertips, she inched her nightgown up until the top edge of her knickers was exposed. 

She imagined Snape was lying next to her, telling herself that it was his nimble fingers that slid underneath the elastic band and delved lower, as she parted her slippery folds to drag the wetness back up to her clit. With a slow, feather-light touch she rubbed back and forth directly over the exquisitely sensitive nub of flesh. A fire started beneath her fingertip and spread outward until her toes curled and her breath came in ragged gulps. Her heart was beating against her breast like a caged bird and a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out all over her body. _Oh, sweet goddess!_

Hermione shuddered convulsively as the tension she had steadily built up was abruptly released. As she lay there, panting and twitching, she wondered if he ever thought about her in the solitude of his rooms. The possibility excited her so much that she began again, and this time she pictured him watching her as she expertly brought herself to orgasm again. Several climaxes later she finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep. 

~*~

The next few days passed uneventfully, and since she hadn’t had to face Professor Snape yet, her fantasies seemed like a harmless outlet for her newfound desire. That was about to change. She knew the second she walked into the Potions classroom and saw him sitting there behind his desk; there was no way she could hide what she’d been doing from him. _What was I thinking?_ Hermione wanted to turn and leave but she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. The best she could hope for was to keep from meeting his gaze, because if he looked into her eyes he would know. Hermione took her usual seat next to Harry and studiously ignored her professor. If she could just stay focused, then maybe she could get through class. 

Snape was lecturing on the brewing of Veritaserum and Hermione kept her eyes on her notes, writing down nearly every word he uttered. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep her mind from wandering so she was also mentally reciting every rhyme she had learned as a child over and over, in an attempt to drown out all other thoughts. Two hours later class was over and Hermione’s head was throbbing from her mental self-control, but at least she had managed to avoid inviting his attention.

When she read over her notes that evening, she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. She had written the directions for making Veritaserum interspersed with snippets of rhymes. If this continued there was no hope that her notes would be even remotely helpful in preparing for N.E.W.T.s. There was only one thing to be done; she was going to have to learn Occlumency. Of course, Professor Snape was the logical choice for learning that particular art of mental discipline, but going to him for help would be like asking a dementor to kiss her. She would just have to research and practice it on her own.

Hermione spent the weekend in the library, buried in books. She was soaking up all the information on Legilimency and Occlumency that she could find. The books all made it sound so deceptively simple, all she had to do was clear her mind of thoughts and let go of the emotions tied to the memories. However, after Friday’s Potions class, she knew exactly how difficult that could be and she had a whole new sympathy for Harry, whom she had previously thought was just not trying hard enough.

The true test came Monday in Potions. They had started working on brewing Veritaserum. Near the end of the class period, Snape began strolling around the room to check on everyone’s progress. He peered into each cauldron, occasionally making a scathing comment, rarely offering praise, and then only to Slytherins. As he neared Hermione’s cauldron she took a calming breath and tried to release all thoughts of his hands on her body. She knew she couldn’t avoid his gaze forever and this was the moment of truth. She looked up into his fathomless black eyes and waited. He stared at her for a brief moment then arched an eyebrow. Snape leaned in closer to her, as if to get a better look at the potion, and her heart skipped at his nearness. 

"Nursery rhymes, Miss Granger?" he whispered sardonically.

Hermione could feel the flush rising in her cheeks, and silently cursed her inability to control the reaction his words caused in her. Before she could even formulate a reply he had moved on to berate first Harry and then Ron. 

As they left the dungeons Ron spoke, "Well, that wasn’t so bad."

Hermione looked at him as if he had gone mental.

"At least he didn’t take away any marks this time," Harry said.

"Yeah, and I think I’m actually getting used to him calling me a brainless oaf," Ron added.

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder in mock sympathy and they both nearly doubled over in laughter.

"Honestly, I don’t know how you two can joke about it!"

"It’s self-defense, Hermione, you should know that by now," dropping his voice to a husky whisper, he continued, "after all, you know us well enough.... Speaking of which," Ron eyed her hungrily, "how about granting us the _pleasure_ of your company tonight?"

"Yeah, it’s been a while since you’ve graced us with your presence, Hermione."

Hermione’s mind raced. Normally she would have said yes right away, but today she hesitated. She worried she might slip and call out _his_ name, and how on earth would she ever explain that? Then again, it might be good for her. It would give her an outlet for her desire other than her own fingers, which, as good as it was, was never quite enough.

"Well, Hermione?" Ron was looking at her expectantly. 

"Sure." She smiled. "I could use the distraction." 

~*~

That evening found the three of them in the Room of Requirements again. Hermione wanted to let go, to be utterly swept away by their desire and drown herself in it’s urgency. She fervently hoped that their flesh would slake her need for _him_. If she were lucky she could forget, if only for one night, that she longed for someone else’s touch. 

They stripped each other with frantic hands, eager to find the flesh hidden beneath the uniforms. Ron and Hermione unbuttoned each other’s shirts, while Harry reached around her to undo Ron’s trousers. As Harry pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra, Ron worked her skirt loose and let it slip to the floor. Soon enough all their clothing was lying in a heap on the floor and they were free to rub and press against each other unhindered.

Harry pulled her backwards onto the bed with him and Ron followed, trapping her between them. If she closed her eyes, she could try to imagine that it was _his_ hands roaming over her body, _his_ lips, _his_ tongue. But even without looking, she knew them by the feel of their hands, the scent and texture of their skin, the taste of their sweat. Yet, her mind kept saying, _what if it was him?_

Ron slipped his tongue into her mouth and she sucked it in greedily, quickly provoking him into a ravenous assault of her mouth. But as he ravaged her, Hermione wondered what it would be like to be kissed by Snape. She wanted to know what he tasted like. Would _his_ hunger spread through her like a wildfire, igniting her passion? 

Harry’s fingers found her clit and she told herself it was _his_ fingers. Never mind that she knew it wasn’t; never mind that she knew it was wrong to be wishing she were with someone else. The idea of it being _him_ stroking her, _him_ making her blood simmer and her toes curl, made her come so hard and fast that she nearly screamed his name. 

"Oh, Se-sweet Merlin!"

"Looks like Hermione’s middle tonight," Harry’s voice intruded on her fantasy. 

She wanted to shush him, but bit her tongue instead. Ron rolled her on top of him and she instinctively straddled him, moaning throatily as she lowered herself onto him. Gods, how she wished it was _him_ inside her like this. She felt Harry move in behind her and reached an arm around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to hurry. Harry obliged her and soon his lips were nibbling at her ear as his hands roved over her curves. _What would _his_ touch feel like?_

She could hear Harry whisper a lubricating charm and then she felt him pressing against her. She willed herself to relax as he entered her and then stopped, waiting for her to move. Hermione pulled away from Ron, taking Harry deeper, causing them both to moan. She paused, and then moved forward, burying Ron to the hilt with a gasp of pleasure that he echoed. Ron wrapped his hands around her waist and Harry grabbed her hips, both of them pushing her, pulling her, helping her find a rhythm. 

This was bloody wonderful. Why would anyone want someone else? Why would she? But she did, and as fantastic as it was, it wasn’t _him_ , and he was what she really wanted. Not them. Not like this. Not anymore. The realisation made her want to cry. She lost her rhythm and Harry and Ron took over, finding their own. She was suspended in time, hearing them through a haze, as if she were underwater, drowning.

"Gods, this feels too good, Harry," Ron grunted.

Harry groaned, "I know ... I know. Oh gods, Ron, I know!" He reached a hand around between her and Ron and began to rub her clit again, whispering in her ear, "C’mon, Hermione, we can’t last much longer."

She was numb. She could feel Harry’s insistent finger, but it wasn’t _his_ , wasn’t enough. She tried to conjure him up in her mind's eye, to visualise one of those long fingers instead of.... Then she was suddenly there, her senses exploding, starbursts flashing against her eyelids, body trembling as the energy surged through her. She collapsed onto Ron’s chest gasping for breath and noted that he was trembling too. Harry groaned and fell forward shuddering and panting moments later.

Hermione was sandwiched between them and neither one of them were moving. This used to be one of her favourite places to be; they had made her feel safe, secure, content. Now she just felt smothered. A tear slipped down her cheek and mingled with Ron’s sweat. Impatient to get out from between them, she began to squirm.

Ron finally spoke, "Geroff. Can’t breath."

"Sorry, mate." Harry disengaged from Hermione and sat back, pulling her up with him.

Ron sat up after taking several deep breaths and gave her a lingering kiss, which she returned automatically. Harry rested his chin on her shoulder and Ron released her mouth to give Harry the same attention. She listened to the soft, wet sounds of them kissing for a moment before slipping out from between them. They drew closer together. Soon Ron had pushed Harry back down onto the bed. Things were starting to heat up again when Hermione got softly up off the bed to get dressed.

"Going somewhere, ‘Mione?"

Ron and Harry had stopped and were looking at her.

"Yeah, I’m going to go back and get some sleep." 

"You sure you don’t want to stay?"

Hermione nodded, "I’m zonked, but you two go ahead. Don’t let me ruin your fun."

They said their goodnights. Hermione checked the Marauder’s map and then flooed back to Gryffindor tower. She was sniffling softly as she climbed the stairs to the girl’s dorm. Pausing at the door, she brushed an errant tear away with her fingers and silently entered the room. She put her nightgown on quietly and climbed into bed, drawing the curtains around her while casting a quick privacy charm. Only then did she give in and let the tears flow unchecked, to be soaked up by her pillow. Crookshanks, sensing her grief, curled up under her quivering chin and purred softly as Hermione absently ran her fingers through his warm fur until she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

~*~

Hermione was consumed with guilt over the next few days, feeling as if she had betrayed her two best friends. She dawdled on her way to the dungeons, dreading Potions because it meant being in the same room with them and Snape for the next two hours. She slipped into her seat at the last possible minute while starting her mental rhymes and busied herself with getting out her book. The last thing she needed was for Snape to pick up on what had happened. Hermione startled at the sound of his voice. 

"You will open your books to chapter four and read silently. I expect two feet of parchment on which parts of a dragon are used in potion making, and their properties, by the beginning of the next lesson."

Hermione pulled out some parchment, ink, and a quill. Opening her book she took a slow, steadying breath and began to read. She soon realised that she couldn’t keep up the rhymes, concentrate on the text, and take notes. With a small sigh of resignation she gave up rhyming and hoped that reading about dragon parts would be sufficiently interesting enough to keep her focused. 

Half an hour into class, as she was reading about the uses of dragon’s blood, her mind began to wander. She was thinking about what had happened Monday night with Ron and Harry. How she had wanted to forget about her professor, but had ended up unable to find her release without picturing _him_ doing those things to her. Hermione shook her head softly and went back to reading, not daring to look up and see if he was watching her.

She had read and reread a paragraph on dragon livers three times before she realised that she hadn’t taken in a single word. Fearing the worst, she laid her quill down and looked up — right into his eyes. The room around her began to fade. She was on the edge ... so close ... fire pulsing through her veins ... toes curling ... _his_ image behind her closed eyelids ... _his_ fingers ... _his_ name nearly breaching her lips as she came undone....

A slight movement caught her attention, drawing her gaze down to his hand. He was tapping his pale, slender fingers in a slow, steady rhythm against the hard wooden surface of his desk. A shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t want to look back up into those knowing eyes. Maybe she could just watch his fingertips drum against his desk for the rest of class, because she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from them. He stopped then and, without thinking, she glanced up again. 

Snape was studying her intently. There was no hint in his features that he knew, but she was sure that he did _._ How could he not when her thoughts were laid bare before him? She felt him pulling at the edges of her memories, ever so gently coaxing them up to the surface. She fought him, trying to shut her mind, to hide the truth. He must have felt her resistance because he withdrew with a slight nod of concession. So slight, in fact, that she wondered if she had imagined it. Hermione couldn’t figure out why he would suddenly develop a conscience and back out of her mind when he could have so easily exposed her. It didn’t make sense.

Unfortunately she wasn’t concerned enough to worry. She was actually quite relieved that he had decided to leave her alone. At least, that’s what she told herself. After all, it wasn’t like she _wanted_ him to know that she was daydreaming about him doing things to her that no professor should ever do to a student. As if on queue, one of those fantasies started to play out in the theatre of her mind. Snape was lying next to her ... both of them unclothed ... his fingers gliding over her belly ... twining in her nether-curls ... stroking her ... a fiery serpent was spiraling out from her core, consuming her ... and then he was inside her ... moving in an ancient rhythm ... driving her to the brink, and then over it into oblivion....

Then suddenly it did make sense, and she felt utterly foolish. She refused to look up, refused to see the smugness in his features. Her humiliation was now complete and there was no way that she was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. If there were any mercy in the universe, she would wake to find that it was all just a bad dream. As it was, the universe wasn’t very sympathetic to Hermione’s plight, and so she had to content herself with finishing her assignment while wishing that she could turn invisible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	4. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides to confront Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the second chapter I wrote. It explains a couple things that happened in _Hermione's Detention_ and serves to draw out the sexual tension between Hermione and Severus just a little bit longer. As Louis B. Mayer said, "The only good plot is a delayed fuck."

The next several weeks passed quickly for Hermione. Her professors were swamping all the seventh years with tons of reading, essays, and research. There didn’t seem to be enough time in the day to get everything done and she found herself wishing, more than once, that she still had a Time-Turner. The only class that didn’t seem to go by too fast was Potions. In fact, it passed excruciatingly slow. Perhaps it was because she never quite knew when Snape was going to try to sneak a quick look into her mind, and so she was constantly on edge. Trying to keep him out was proving more exhausting than she had ever thought possible. She knew she couldn’t go on like this for much longer without having a nervous breakdown. Something had to be done. The only problem was that she couldn’t think of any resolution other than having sex with him, and she was convinced that there was no way that would ever happen.

If he had given her any tangible sign, other than that initial flash of desire, that her longing was reciprocated then she might have considered the possibility that they would become lovers. But, to date, all he had really done was torment her with the maddening fact that he knew she wanted him. He took some sort of perverse pleasure in catching her eyes during class and it infuriated her that she never seemed to be able to look away from those penetrating black orbs. Sometimes he would tug at her memories, sometimes he just held her captive for several long moments before releasing her.

After that emotionally distressing night with Ron and Harry, she hadn’t taken them up on any more offers of company. Not that there had been that many; it appeared that they were becoming more and more enthralled with each other, and that was perfectly fine with Hermione. And so she was left with just her fantasies. Even knowing that Snape could pull up any of her memories whenever he choose to didn’t deter her from indulging herself while in the relative privacy of her curtained bed. It was all she had left, and what difference did it make when he had already seen the extent of her wantonness? It wasn’t like she could be shamed any further than she already had been.

~*~

Monday afternoon came around again, and with it, Potions. Snape was much too uninterested in her today and her nerves were becoming increasingly jumpy as the class wore on. He hadn’t left her alone for an entire class period since this whole thing had begun and she wondered nervously what he was waiting for. Of course, there had been a couple of times when he had waited almost until the end of class and it had unsettled her then as well. But with only five more minutes to go she was beginning to think that perhaps he had finally grown tired of toying with her. And then he spoke.

"The Headmaster has made it known that he expects the teaching staff to make themselves available for questions from their N.E.W.T. year students," he sneered as he glanced around the room. "So, should any of you have any burning questions that you desire to ask me," His eyes caught hers briefly, "or if you feel the need to see me privately for any other reason," here again he glanced at Hermione. "I will be in my office between the hours of five and six on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Dismissed." 

Hermione’s head was spinning. If she didn’t know better she would have thought that Snape had just given her a reason to see him alone. Not only a reason, but a blatant invitation by the way he had caught her eyes and his double-entendres. But that couldn’t be right, could it? After all, she knew that he was telling the truth. Her other professors had already made similar statements, and it’s not like Snape would willingly make such a statement to the entire class just for her benefit. Still.... She pondered it as she gathered up her stuff. 

Ron and Harry were walking just ahead of her. Ron was nearly in fits of laughter as they left the dungeons. "Do you believe it? Snape with office hours; how bleeding funny is that?"

Harry chuckled too. "I wonder what curse Dumbledore had to threaten him with to get him to agree to that?"

"Can’t imagine anyone will take him up on it; I know I wouldn’t." Ron said.

"Yeah, my memories of being alone with Snape in his office aren’t exactly pleasant, I think I’d pass too," said Harry.

"What about you, Hermione?" Ron had turned to look at her expectantly.

"Well, I wouldn’t mind running my final essay topic by him before I get started…." 

"Figures." Ron turned back to Harry. "Leave it to Hermione to be more worried about grades than about being alone with the git."

"Oh grow up, Ron. It’s not like he hasn’t already proved himself trustworthy." Hermione snapped. 

"I’d rather not take any chances." Harry said.

~*~

Hermione debated going to Snape’s office that evening, but she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that he had meant it the way that she thought he had. Besides, she had her weekly Heads meeting with Draco tonight and if things got heated between her and Snape she would probably end up missing it, not to mention supper. Best not to take the chance even though she wasn’t convinced that it was an invitation. 

All through super and her meeting with Draco she kept mulling over Snape’s announcement. She barely managed to push it out of her mind while working on her assignments that evening and as soon as she laid down to go to sleep her logic circled around again. He _had_ meant for her to take it as an invitation, what other explanation could there be? Her decision was made. Now all she had to do was wait until Wednesday.

~*~

Hermione arrived at Snape’s office promptly at five o’clock. Butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach as she raised her hand to knock. 

His voice came muffled through the heavy wooden door, "Enter."

Taking a deep breath she opened the door. "Good evening, Professor Snape." She closed the door behind her and stood hesitating. 

"Why are you here, Miss Granger?" He didn’t even bother to look up from his paperwork.

"I wanted to speak with you about my N.E.W.T. essay." She moved into the middle of the room.

"You’ve never wanted, or needed, my help in the past." He looked at her then; his cold, dark eyes narrowed. "Why are you really here?"

"I think you know why I’m here, sir." her voice was soft and, she hoped, sensual.

His face was impassive. "Humour me."

"I’m here because ... I suddenly find myself very attracted to you, and I believe ... that the feeling is mutual."

"So, your essay is just an excuse to be alone with me then? Fantasies not enough for you any more?"

"Are they enough for you?" She couldn’t believe her own audacity. _Where did that come from?_

"Leave. Now." 

"Sir?" She suddenly felt ill. Maybe she had misjudged him; maybe he wasn’t interested in her at all.

"I am a professor; you are my student. Propriety does not allow for such relationships, Miss Granger, now leave."

So, he did want her. Emboldened she defied him, "No."

"No?" He looked at her as if she had grown an extra appendage. He obviously wasn't used to having his authority flouted.

"The Severus Snape I know wouldn’t let propriety stand in the way of something he wanted." she unhooked her robes, let them slip off her shoulders to land in a puddle around her feet. 

His eyes narrowed again, his voice was low and dangerous, "Do not presume you understand me, Miss Granger."

Hermione refused to be cowed. "Am I wrong?"

"What’s the matter? Potter and Weasley not enough to keep you satisfied? Or maybe they're so wrapped up in each other that they've forgotten all about you?"

"How did you...?"

"Come now, Miss Granger, you’re not the only one whose mind wanders during my class, and Potter’s never been able to keep his emotions under control."

"Do you pry into everyone’s private thoughts?"

"Normally I only concern myself with the students from my house, but Potter’s always been a special case." He sneered at her. "Not that it’s any of your business." 

"What about me?" 

"What about you?" He considered her for a moment. "When I pick up stray images I usually disregard them, but what I saw from you that afternoon was so unexpected that my interest was roused."

"I’m sure your interest wasn’t the only thing that was roused." Hermione stated under her breath.

"Your point, Miss Granger?"

"That you want me as much as I want you." Hermione pulled her jumper off and dropped it onto the floor. "I’m not usually so forward, Professor, but I feel our situation requires it," She removed her house tie letting it fall to the floor as well. "So I’ll make this easy for you…." She began unbuttoning her shirt slowly.

Snape stood and, closing the distance between them, stayed her hands. "You’re playing a very adult game, Miss Granger."

His fingers were warm; she had expected them to be ice cold, like his demeanour. "I am an adult." She said it as if daring him to deny it. She wasn’t disappointed.

"You may be of age, but that doesn’t make you an adult."

"Then what does?"

"Experience ... maturity ... self-control...." He redid her buttons with each word he spoke and she shivered under his touch. Taking her by the shoulders he turned her around and guided her backwards until she was sitting on the edge of his desk. Hermione gasped as his hands made contact with the bare skin just above her knees. When he spread her legs apart she didn’t protest, but looked up at him expectantly. With him standing there between her thighs she finally had proof that her desire wasn’t one sided. Her skin tingled as his fingers skimmed across her collarbone, his hand slipped behind her neck; his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. He tugged her head gently back and she let out a soft moan when his lips grazed her ear as he whispered, "I can make all your fantasies come true ... _if_ you agree to my rules."

Hermione trembled with desire. _Did he just say rules?_ She was having trouble processing his words with his body so close to hers. "Rules, Professor?" It was no more than a breathy murmur.

"Yes, Miss Granger, just like any other game this one has rules." He released her hair and took a step back, his stern gaze settling on her. "First; there will be no informalities between us. I am your professor and you are my student and whatever we may do privately will not change that fact. If you were to get too comfortable addressing me casually in private you would undoubtedly slip into familiarity at some point in public and I won’t risk that, understood?

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Professor."

"Second; you will not talk about our extracurricular activities to anyone. If you keep a journal you will not write in it about me; do I make myself clear?

"Perfectly, sir."

"And, since I know I can’t stop you from thinking about what we do when we’re alone together, I must insist that you learn Occlumency as your nursery rhymes are pathetically easy to get past." 

Hermione flinched inwardly at the insult but managed to keep her voice steady, "Of course, Professor. Is that all?"

"No, Miss Granger, it is not. Our relationship will remain a purely physical one. If I even suspect that you are getting emotionally attached I _will_ cut you loose without regret. Do we have an agreement?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir." _This is really going to happen._ She almost panicked. 

"Good." He Summoned her discarded clothing up off the floor and handed them to her. "Put these back on and then go up to supper."

"But, Professor...?" She was confused.

He gave her an exasperated, _what now_ look. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I-I just thought that, now that we’ve discussed the situation, we’d...." She felt distinctly awkward.

"As tempting as I find the thought of taking you right here on my desk, this isn’t the appropriate time."

"Oh." Hermione tried to hide her disappointment. "Right.... Of course it isn’t." She stood and started putting her tie back on. "I’ll just pull myself together quick and then I’ll be on my way."

Snape’s hands took over knotting her tie. "Don’t fret," He lowered his head to whisper in her ear again, "We’ll get to the desk ... eventually." 

When she looked at him again the ice had melted from his eyes and was replaced by a smouldering lust. "Sir, if I may ask, when is the right time?"

"Tomorrow night, Miss Granger, half an hour after supper."

"And where shall I meet you?"

"Right here."

With a crooked finger he lifted her chin. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat so sure was she that he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead he held her there, his eyes locked to hers. She felt utterly naked under his intense gaze and she shivered slightly. 

"When you retire to the privacy of your bed tonight and you find yourself becoming aroused by thoughts of what is to come, I want you to refrain from indulging in any sort of autoeroticism, do you understand?"

Hermione felt herself blush as she nodded. 

"I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question, Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir, I understand, but ... may I ask why?"

"Yes, you may." 

That wasn’t the answer Hermione had been expecting and she could tell from the smug look on his face that he was being intentionally non-forthcoming. 

"Why should I refrain, Professor?"

"Why should you refrain from _what_ , Miss Granger?" He smirked at her obvious discomfort.

Clearly he was not about to make this easy for her. Hermione steeled herself to answer him plainly, her voice taut in her unease, "Why should I refrain from ... pleasuring myself, _sir_." 

He rewarded her by taking both her wrists in his hands, and then proceeded to trace circles over the sensitive pulse points with his thumbs as he spoke, "Because, Miss Granger, I think you’ll find that by allowing the anticipation to build, the consummation will be even more fulfilling."

Hermione quivered. _Yes, that’s definitely a good reason._ She picked her jumper up off the desk and pulled it back on wishing she wasn’t so warm already. A few moments later she was straightening her robes.

"Enjoy your meal, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, sir, I will." Hermione opened the door and left. 

~*~

That evening, as Hermione lay in bed, her thoughts did indeed turn to Snape. She was both excited and nervous about being with him and wondered just how accurate her fantasies would prove. The ache between her thighs was growing more and more insistent as she imagined how he would touch her and what it would feel like to finally have him inside of her. She fidgeted, clenching her thighs together in a futile attempt to quiet her need. Her body longed for relief and she despaired of ever getting to sleep. Sighing, she flopped over onto her stomach, moments later she was lying on her back again with the blankets kicked off. She groaned and rolled onto her side. _Maybe I should try counting sheep? 1 ... 2 ... 4 ... 8 ... 16 ... 32 ... 64 ... 128 ... 256 ... 512 ... 1,024...._ It was no use. Eventually she began mentally reciting every Arithmancy formula she could recall until Morpheus finally granted her the sweet respite of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	5. Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally gets what she has been longing for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut - woot! What more can I say? lol. Okay, maybe I can say more. This chapter took me for- _freaking_ -ever to write. OMG, the pressure to write something amazing was horrible after all that build-up. From the comments I've received, I guess I did an acceptable job. Honestly, I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I shall resist the urge to tinker. *hides red pen behind back*
> 
> Also, what is it about Snape & Sandalwood? I went to the local co-op and stood in front of the aromatherapy section sniffing all the essential oils until my nose went numb. When I got to Sandalwood, I knew that I had found his scent. So I went home and wrote it. Then I started noticing other stories with Snape using sandalwood soap, incenses, etc. Ugh. But I came up with it on my own damn it. I don't intentionally copy other people's ideas. Not that anyone's ever accused me of doing so, but still....

Hermione awoke Thursday morning and the first thought that she had was; _I’m going to have sex with my professor tonight,_ which caused her stomach to do a little flip-flop. She washed and dressed absently, lost in thought. Perhaps it was because of her preoccupation, but everything she did seemed sensual to her; the warm water flowing around her, the slippery bar of soap gliding over her body, the soft nub of the towel rubbing against her skin, even the drag of fabric across her limbs as she pulled on her uniform. Whatever the reason, one thing was clear - she was still aroused _. How am I going to get through the entire day like this?_

She spent most of breakfast trying to act as if it were just another day, which was rather difficult when she kept catching glimpses of Snape sitting at the head table. _Since when does he take his breakfast in the Great Hall?_ Hermione decided that he had done it just to torment her with his aloof presence; and it was a sort of torment, seeing him there, wanting him, and knowing she had to wait.

Her morning classes were spent in a haze of frustration. Halfway through the second class she had nearly given up on trying to listen or take notes. She found the hard wooden chairs maddening, as they seemed to accentuate the ache she was feeling. Hermione kept pressing her hips forward, torn between welcoming the firmness of the chair against her nether regions and finding it irritating. Walking back to the Great Hall for lunch was an entirely different sort of annoyance; the slight friction of her bare thighs brushing past each other felt entirely too pleasant and she was suddenly very aware of the natural sway of her hips.

During her free period she retired to her dorm and lay on her bed trying to relax. She couldn’t remember ever being overcome by desire like this before. Maybe it was because her encounters with Ron and Harry had all been fairly spontaneous, or perhaps it was just familiarity. She considered giving in and alleviating some of her tension but then she remembered the shivers that had went through her body when he had touched her and decided that she could wait.

Transfiguration passed much the same way as her morning classes had and soon enough she was sitting in the Great Hall once again, this time for supper. Hermione was starting to feel nervous now that the appointed hour for their tryst was so close at hand. Her stomach was tied into knots and she really didn’t have much of an appetite. However, she knew that she should at least try to eat something. Between nibbling her food and sipping her pumpkin juice she made small talk with Ginny, Ron, and Harry, but her mind was elsewhere. She wondered what would they think of her if they knew. Then she decided that she didn’t really want to know after all.

Snape left the head table and Hermione took that as her cue to make her excuses for the evening. She headed straight to the girl’s dormitory to freshen up and then made her way down to the dungeons, trying to avoid being seen by anyone along the way. The hall was empty when she knocked at Snape’s office.

She heard his customary, ‘ _Enter_ ,’ and slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her. He was sitting at his desk, his robes hanging over the back of the chair, looking at her impassively. Hermione’s heart was pounding in her throat so she just stood there, waiting.

"Are you standing there because you want me to take you against the door, or because you’re waiting for an invitation to move further into the room?"

She swallowed her heart back down and finally found her voice, "No, sir."

"No to which, Miss Granger?"

"Both."

His voice was soft, almost inviting, "Then why are you still standing next to my door?"

Hermione moved into the middle of his office, looking around at the jars of potion ingredients that lined the shelves along each wall. Some were innocuous enough and others were downright disgusting with bits of pickled Merlin-only-knew-what floating in them. She hesitated in front of his desk; his eyes were still on her. She found it infuriating that he was just sitting there watching her dither. She wondered if it gave him some perverse sort of pleasure to see her so unnerved.

He stood then, moving around his desk to stand in front of her. "Take off your robes," he commanded quietly as his gaze swept over her.

"Are we staying in _here_?"

"Does that bother you?" there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice, "You seemed perfectly at ease with the idea yesterday."

"No, it doesn’t. I just assumed...." she let it trail off without finishing.

"That we’d retire to my private rooms?"

"Well, yes, actually."

"I’m afraid that’s not possible, Miss Granger."

"Why not, sir?"

"Because, although it’s not common knowledge, the staff’s personal quarters are warded to prevent students from entering. While you would undoubtedly be able to get past the age barriers, there are more insidious spells at work, spells that would alert the headmaster to your presence in my room for example."

"I should have guessed there would be, it makes perfect sense; how better to discourage inappropriate relationships?" She thought a moment. "Can you dispel them? There must be some way around them?"

"I’m sure that even attempting such a thing would not go unnoticed. Besides, a bedroom isn’t the only suitable location for a sexual encounter. In fact," his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "it’s rather near the bottom of my list of places where I’d like to have you...." Snape’s eyes raked over her hungrily. "Now take off your robes."

She did as he requested this time and he took them from her, placing her robes over the chair with his own. Pulling out his wand, he transfigured the chair into a coat rack and banished it to a corner of the room. Turning to the door he placed a complicated series of wards on it and then added a privacy charm. When he faced her again he said, "Stand back."

Hermione took a few steps backwards and Snape motioned for her to move further. When she had backed far enough away from the desk to satisfy him, he raised his wand again and transfigured the desk into a pile of soft furs that took up most of the small room. Hermione looked from the furs to her professor as if to question him but he shook his head.

"You need to learn to think outside the _bed,_ Miss Granger."

His tone was more teasing than critical but it still stung. Hermione cast her eyes downward and stared at the thick fur. _Black, it figures._ Snape sat down to remove his shoes. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Forgetting her wounded pride, she watched in fascination as he pulled off his socks. She had never given his feet much thought, but now that she saw him barefoot, she found the sight incredibly sexy. Snape looked up at her, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Will you be joining me down here?"

"Yes. Of course, Professor."

She sat down at the opposite edge from him and removed her shoes and then her socks, rolling them up and tucking them into her shoes before pushing them out of the way. Hermione looked up to find him studying her.

"I suppose you’ll fold your clothes as I take them off you as well?" his biting sarcasm was back.

Hermione felt the heat of her embarrassment crawl up her neck and flood her face. "No, sir."

"Good."

He stood and walked across the furs. Reaching out for her hands, he pulled her to her feet. They were standing a breath apart and Hermione suddenly noticed his scent, a subtle musky note over a base of sandalwood. The exotic fragrance was definitely not what she had been expecting, but at once it seemed so obviously appropriate for him, that she couldn’t imagine him smelling any other way.

His hands went to her waist, his knuckles brushing lightly over her sides as he coaxed her jumper up and pulled it off, tossing it on top of her shoes. Snape tamed her hair back into place then began to rub small circles over her temples with his thumbs. Hermione could feel the tension, which she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding on to, drain from her body. Her eyes drifted shut and she swayed a bit as she relaxed.

"Better?"

"Mhmmm." She nodded slightly.

Snape took her by the hands and led her into the middle of the room, pulling her down with him as he knelt so that she ended up straddling him. A shudder wracked her body as he slid his hands up her thighs, then over her skirt. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lips were parted slightly as she drew in a ragged breath, letting it out in a soft sigh. Slowly, tantalisingly, he traced her lips with the barest brush of a fingertip. She quivered as he ran his finger over her chin and down her throat. When he reached her silk house tie, he undid it. Opening the top button of her shirt, he kissed the hollow of her throat and she let her head fall back. Hermione shivered and moaned softly while he repeated the process with three more buttons, each time kissing the delicate flesh that was revealed before moving on to the next. He paused to plunge his tongue deep into her cleavage, and she gasped, her head snapping back up as her fingers dug into his shoulders. Snape freed the rest of her buttons in rapid succession while running his tongue back up to the base of her throat. Then he pushed her shirt down her shoulders, catching the straps of her bra with his thumbs and dragging them with.

"So responsive," he breathed against her neck, "and you waste it on boys who don’t even know enough to appreciate it."

"But you do, don’t you?" It was more an observation than a question — she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch; he savoured her reactions and that knowledge only served to incite her further.

"Yes, girl, and you’ll soon find out just how much."

Snape pulled her shirt off and then began unbuttoning his own. She watched as his pale skin was steadily revealed, a stark contrast to his black shirt. A sparse line of curly, jet-black hair started at his breastbone and grew denser as it neared his waistband. It beckoned to her and she reached out with tentative fingers to trace the line of hair. It must have taken him by surprise because he drew in his breath with a sharp hiss. Hermione glanced up into his eyes but saw no reproach. Encouraged, she placed her palms on his chest, ran them up to his shoulders and pushed his shirt down his arms. Once she had tossed his shirt aside, she took his left hand and turned it palm up. The Dark Mark was still faintly visible on his forearm, another few months and it would disappear completely. She traced it with a fingertip and felt him tremble slightly.

"Does it excite you?" he asked in a silky whisper.

"This?" She looked pointedly at the Dark Mark.

"No, what it marks me as."

"You mean as a Death Eater? You weren’t really one of them...."

"No?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "You’re right." His voice brought to her mind velvet wrapped steel, at once seductive and unyielding, "I was something far more treacherous." His arms went around her, one hand behind her neck and the other in the centre of her back, pressing her forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Hermione’s hands instinctively went to his chest and pushed back, but he held her firmly. "I infiltrated the inner echelon of the Dark Lord’s loyal minions and became his most trusted advisor." He pulled her even closer, trapping her arms between them. His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered, "What do you think I had to do to get there?"

A chill ran down her spine and Hermione shivered. She had never really thought about it that way.

Snape smirked and released her abruptly, saying, "Having second thoughts?"

Hermione lifted her chin slightly and met his gaze. "No," she said resolutely.

"Gryffindor bravery overcomes common sense once again." He searched her eyes and she felt as if he was reading her soul. "Or maybe, you just like your men a little dark?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor."

"Oh, really?" his black eyes narrowed.

Faces flashed into focus in Hermione’s mind one after another. Ron ... Harry ... Victor ... Sirius ... Draco....

She flushed, knowing he had seen each one as well.

"I don’t know how Weasley fits into that pattern, Miss Granger, but can you really still profess that you do not recognise your attraction to danger?"

Hermione was stunned speechless.

"It’s alright." He smirked at her, "We all have our weaknesses."

"Then what’s yours?" she challenged. She really couldn’t imagine Snape having any weaknesses.

He looked at her appraisingly. "At the moment ... it’s you," he said, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her closer until she could feel the truth of his words straining against the fabric that separated them.

Snape had her bra off seconds later and Hermione gasped as he traced the curve of her breast with his fingers. _Merlin, this is so wrong_ , she thought as his mouth claimed her nipple. A jolt of white-hot pleasure shot through her as he began to suck and nibble at it with his teeth. Her hands went up into his hair, pulling him closer even as she tried to get away from the maddening sensation.

He chuckled softly. "Like that, do you?"

"Yes," she sighed as he descended on the opposite breast, "Oh, gods, yes."

Snape’s hands slid down her back to unzip her skirt and it fell slack around her hips. In one fluid motion he wrapped an arm around her and leaned forward, lying her down. The fur felt cool and silky against her flushed skin and Hermione purred with delight.

Snape looked at her in surprise, then said, "I knew you’d be pleased once you felt it against your flesh. Next time you’ll have a bit more faith in me, won’t you?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione smiled coyly.

He ran his hands down her sides, lifting her hips slightly as he pulled her skirt off without once breaking contact with her body. Snape grasped her ankle, lifting her leg. She squirmed as he nibbled at the tip of each toe on first one foot, then the other. Hermione was desperately trying not to moan as the sensation shot straight up her leg to her core. _Who knew toes could be so erotic?_ She felt his palms begin to move firmly and smoothly up her calves. He drew one leg up, licking the back of her knee. A shiver ran through her body. She allowed herself a soft moan as he repeated the process on the other side. Hermione was trembling with anticipation as his hands resumed their progress, moving languidly up the insides her thighs. His contact with her flesh was becoming ever more insubstantial the further up he went, and Hermione strained to keep herself from arching into his touch. When he finally pressed his palm firmly over the damp cotton clinging to the heat between her legs she nearly exploded, and when he didn’t linger there she let out a small whimper of disappointment.

He looked into her beseeching eyes and a wicked smile played across his features. "Not yet, Miss Granger. Patience."

Hermione couldn't stop quivering. He rubbed his palm in a feather-light circle around her navel before both hands glided up her ribcage and over her breasts, his thumbs grazing her nipples. He pulled his hands firmly down her arms then lifted her hands to place a searing kiss in the centre of each palm.

"Turn over."

Hermione knew it wasn’t a request. She rolled onto her stomach, reveling in the feel of the fur tickling her breasts before she laid her head down on her folded arms. She could feel the heat of his body as he hovered over her. The touch of his fingers, as he brushed her hair off to one side, sent shivers down her spine that were multiplied when his lips brushed the nape of her neck. Her back arched, her belly pressing into the soft furs and her hips lifting, as he ran his tongue down her spine. When he reached the edge of her knickers, his fingers caught under the elastic and inched them down. She gasped when his tongue trailed over the exquisitely sensitive triangle of flesh at the base of her spine, her whole body twitching uncontrollably.

Snape continued pulling her panties down. She let out a yelp as he nipped at a cheek, which was quickly followed by a moan when he ran his tongue over the sweet spot where her thigh met her arse. Drawing his hands firmly down the backs of her legs, he finished removing her knickers. Then he grabbed her by the ankles and unceremoniously flipped her back over. Hermione let out a startled cry that she quickly silenced when she realised where his gaze was focused. Licking his lips, Snape prowled up her body. He pressed his knee between her calves and stretched out, lowering himself onto his forearms. Moaning, she pressed her hips against him as his tongue darted out and swirled around her nipple.

Snape made a torturously slow journey downward. Pausing to circle her navel lazily with his tongue while he teased her inner thighs with his fingertips. Hermione was nearly beside herself with expectation when she felt him slip one of those long fingers inside her. He pressed firmly upward and pushed his finger deeper until he hit a spot that made Hermione gasp. Whatever he was doing, it was nothing like anything she had ever felt before. Fire pulsed through her veins and Snape was coaxing the flames steadily higher. She was gasping, her toes curling and her hands clutching at the thick fur. His lips brushed over her thigh and then between her legs _. Oh, sweet Merlin! He’s gonna drive me insane...._

It was almost too good. _Gods, why didn’t Ron and Harry ever do it like this?_ Hermione felt another finger slip inside her and moaned even louder. If she hadn’t been drowning in sensation, she would’ve thought that she had left her body behind. She was writhing on the fur, Snape driving her towards ecstasy with his undeniably skilled fingers and tongue. Her whole body stilled for a heartbeat before her eyes rolled back and her body convulsed. As her climax washed over her, she cried out a string of incoherent half-words interspersed with moans and laughter.

He slowed, but wasn’t letting her wind down. His thumb replaced his tongue as he snaked up her body to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, his fingers still working their magic. Within seconds she peaked again, and this time he didn’t ease off. Her body shook violently, but he stayed with her. Hermione was feeling light-headed, her whole body tingling deliciously. She was sure she was going to pass out if he didn’t stop. She wanted him, ached to feel more than just his fingers inside her. She was certain she was going to go mad with desire if he didn’t sate her need quickly.

"Please ... oh, gods ... Professor ... ah ... Merlin ... please.... I can’t take it...."

Snape slowed his rhythm until he had stopped completely. Then he pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean with a look of such sublime pleasure that it made Hermione blush. As he began to remove his trousers, she studied him. He was lean, much leaner than one would expect of a middle-aged professor, and quite fit. Life as a spy must have forced him to stay in shape. When he pulled his pants off, she had to consciously shut her mouth. _Sweet Aphrodite!_ He was bigger than either Harry or Ron, and neither of them were lacking. By the smug look on his face, he knew exactly what was going through her mind. She had a fleeting moment of panic, which was quickly forgotten when his fingers went back to their previous activity. Snape licked at her throat and nipped at her earlobe. The fire between her legs was spreading again, and the ache was becoming unbearable _. Now, please gods, before I die of wanting him...._

His warm breath sent shivers through her as he spoke, "Tell me what you want."

She shook her head against the furs. "I-I can’t."

"Yes, you can," his silky voice coaxed, "say it."

"Please, Professor," she begged him.

"You have to say it first."

"I-I want you ... to be inside me."

"I am inside you, Miss Granger." He shoved his fingers deeper to emphasise his point and she moaned.

"I want more than just your fingers."

"More?" he nearly snorted, "I seriously doubt you’re ready for my fist."

Hermione flushed scarlet. "You know that’s not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" his silky voice was full of suggestions, but it turned icy when he continued, "And don’t you dare say that you want me to make love to you. I have absolutely no intention of making love to you."

"I meant that I want you to shag me, Professor!" Hermione’s eyes grew wide as soon as it came out of her mouth.

He laughed softly at her embarrassment, "I think that deserves a reward."

Snape settled himself on top of her. She could feel him pressing against her entrance and her eyes began to drift shut.

"Look at me." Snape commanded.

Startled, Hermione’s eyes flew open to find him glowering at her.

"I want all of you, Miss Granger. I will not tolerate you hiding behind your fantasies. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione nodded, never taking her eyes off of his.

"Good. Now, I believe you wanted something...."

"Oh, sweet goddess," Hermione moaned as he entered her.

He pulled nearly out, then pushed back in and she gasped as he sunk even deeper. "Merlin, girl," he groaned as he began to move in a slow rhythm, "you’re tighter ... than I expected. Now I know ... why you aren’t ... satisfied ... with Potter and Weasley...."

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, but Snape just smirked at her and thrust so deep that he wrenched a scream from her. With each stroke he was hitting spots that neither Harry nor Ron had ever touched. Hermione gasped and winced each time he seated himself inside her. She was torn between wanting more and wanting to get away, her thighs tensing in a futile attempt to keep him at bay.

"Relax."

"I can’t," Hermione panted, tossing her head from side to side.

His silky voice caressed her, "Trust me. Let go of the tension and you will find the pleasure."

Hermione wasn’t sure that she could relax when it felt like he was trying to get inside her womb, but she nodded. Taking a deep breath, she willed her body to unwind. He started moving again, slowly. Snape gave her only as much as she wanted for several minutes, lulling her into complacency before he drove into her again.

She didn’t fight him this time; she simply accepted him and the bittersweet sensations he was producing in her. Her moans were a deep guttural sound that had their birth in her core, and were conceived of his powerful thrusts. His eyes never left hers, and she felt more vulnerable with those intense black eyes penetrating her than from anything else he was doing. He refused to let her forget, even for a second, that it was _him_ making her feel this delicious agony of pleasure.

 _More, please ... a little ... ah, gods ... harder ... but not ... too ... yes ... right there ... sweet Merlin ... faster ... don’t stop...._ He had to be taking his direction directly from her disjointed thoughts; it was the only explanation for how he could be doing exactly what she wanted. Each deep stroke caused a deliriously wonderful surge of rapture to ripple through her body. Soon they were coming so close together that they formed a swirling whirlpool and sucked her under, drowning her in bliss.

"Open your eyes," his voice barely penetrated the haze that fogged her mind, but she did as he bid her and found herself ensnared once again. "I’m not finished with you yet."

Hermione bit her tongue against mentioning to him that he was stating the obvious. His speed was increasing and yet his thrusts remained deep and hard. She was digging her fingernails into his shoulders so hard she was sure that she had to be drawing blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. Snape reached down with both hands and hooked her knees over his arms, forcing her hips to tilt as he pressed her knees closer to her chest. With each thrust, she felt the familiar tension building deep inside of her again. She was losing her grip on reality and perilously close to plummeting over the edge into oblivion when he stopped.

" _Please,_ " Hermione whimpered.

His eyes narrowed. "Please, what?"

"Please, sir?" Hermione tried.

"What are you asking for?"

"I want you to finish what you’ve started."

"Why? Do you want _this,"_ he ground against her pelvis, making her gasp, "to be over?"

"No! I want to.... Please let me finish, sir."

"Ah, I see. You want me to let you come?"

Hermione nearly sobbed in relief, "Yes."

"Then come for me, Miss Granger," he stated it like it was the simplest thing in the universe, but he didn’t move.

Hermione was confused. How did he expect her to get off if he wasn’t going to continue? She looked into his intense black eyes, and willed him to move. His lips curled into a smirk but he didn’t budge. She couldn’t move either, not with her legs pinned between them and him buried so deep inside her. Hermione was about to try to push him away when the memories crashed over her like a tidal wave. Snape thrusting into her ... his gaze holding hers ... every stroke hitting that spot that made her want to scream ... harder ... faster ... deeper ... faster. He hadn’t moved and yet her body trembled beneath his. Before she could even wonder what was happening she was crying out, "Oh gods, oh gods, ohgodsohgodsohgods, ooh!" as waves of ecstasy broke over her. She could feel herself tightening around him, clamping down around his hardness as her body quivered. Then he began to move again, thrusting into her hard. Once, twice, on the third time she felt him shudder and heard his groan of pleasure as he pulsed deep inside of her.

He was breathing heavily when he rolled off of her. Hermione stretched out her legs gratefully.

"How did you do that?" she asked him breathlessly.

"Do what?"

"How did you make me orgasm from just my memories?"

"I didn’t. I simply gave you a nudge in the right direction."

"A nudge? It felt more like a bludger."

Snape snorted, half laughing.

Hermione had a sudden thought that made her stomach lurch. "Can you do that anytime, or only when we’re ... intimate?"

He gave her a salacious smile. "Would you like to find out?"

"No!" She could just imagine Snape making her climax in the middle of Potions. It wasn’t a thought she found enticing.

Snape was laughing at her again. "Don’t worry, Miss Granger. As entertaining as that might prove to be, I would have a horrible time explaining it to Dumbledore."

"Get out of my head."

Snape sat up, his eyes boring into her. His voice was a cold challenge, "Make me."

Hermione sat up, forgetting her nakedness under his intent gaze. _Make him? Fine._ She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Smirking at her, he picked up his wand. She hadn’t even noticed that he had kept it so close. "Show me your fantasies," his voice coaxed, inviting her to reveal her secrets. He pointed his wand at her and whispered, "Legilimens."

Hermione didn’t want to share her fantasies with him, but it was like being told not to think about a dragon. As soon as someone said it, that’s what you thought about. Images began to form in her mind. Snape taking her in the library, between rows of books ... on the stairs ... in her bed ... under the stars ... by the lake ... in his classroom ... on his desk.... _Enough!_ Hermione slammed her mind shut. She wasn’t even sure how she had done it.

"Not bad for your first attempt." He paused, reaching out to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Most of those can be arranged. I can’t say the library one surprised me. The stairs, however, did. Not that it matters. There aren’t any stairs that are void of portraits; it’s quite impossible."

Hermione felt herself flush again. It had nothing to do with her lack of clothing, and everything to do with the way he was speaking so casually of her fantasies. Snape began to dress and Hermione followed suit. After he had pulled on his pants and trousers, he stood and walked over to a cupboard. Hermione noticed the bloody half-moon shaped welts on the backs of his shoulders and felt vaguely guilty. When he turned back around he had a heavy ceramic goblet in his hands. He held it out to her saying, "Drink this."

She took the goblet from him and peered into it. It was filled with a thick, pearly white liquid that smelled heavily of Snape and sex. Of course, the room smelled much the same way so it was difficult to be certain. "What is it?" she asked.

"A contraceptive potion, Miss Granger, nothing more."

"I don’t recognise it." She wasn’t sure that she wanted to drink it, after all, she knew a few contraceptive charms.

"You don’t need to recognise it," he sounded annoyed, "you need to drink it."

"Do you really think I don’t know how to keep from getting pregnant?"

"The only thing you could possibly know are the same simple charms that land half a dozen girls under Madam Pomfrey’s care, or in my office begging for a potion to rid themselves of the problem, each year. Now drink!"

Hermione gave up. "Yes, sir." She raised the cup to her lips, expecting the worst. Taking a deep breath, she drank it down. It wasn’t as horrible as she had feared. She knew precisely what it had been made with; it had a unique but unmistakable flavour. If she ever tasted him, she was sure it would be the same. She handed the goblet back. "This is why you made me wait. You have to make it fresh, don’t you?"

He nodded, taking it from her and putting it back in the cupboard. Turning to face her again, he said, "But, it’s only a part of the reason I made you wait."

"And the rest?"

"I’ve already told you," he said with a slight smile, "to build the anticipation."

Hermione seriously doubted those were his only reasons, but she let it slide. She was really too tired to be arguing with him. When they had both finished dressing, Snape transfigured everything back to normal and removed the wards. With one hand on the small of her back, he ushered her to the door.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I look forward to seeing you in my class tomorrow."

Hermione turned sharply to find him smirking at her and stared at him in shock. She had almost forgotten that she had Potions tomorrow. Now the rest of his reasoning became clear. _Oh, sweet Merlin._ She was going to have to face him like nothing had happened. Somehow it had seemed so much easier before she had actually slept with him. Now she wasn’t sure she could be in the same room with him without blushing.

He had the nerve to chuckle at her. "Are you alright? You look a little peaky."

"I’m fine. Thank you, Professor," Hermione said stiffly, but she suddenly felt very nauseous.

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if he doubted her statement, but said nothing. When he opened the door she hesitated only briefly before leaving. On her way back to Gryffindor tower she walked slowly, replaying their encounter in her mind. It seemed unreal, almost like a dream, except for the shudders that the memory of his touch sent through her. Only as she neared the portrait of the Fat Lady did it occur to her that he hadn’t actually kissed her.

"Good evening, dear. You look tired. Long night studying?"

"Something like that. Fortitudo."

The portrait swung aside and Hermione stepped into the common room. Ron and Harry were sitting at a table engrossed in their assignments. With any luck she could slip past them. As she reached the stairs to the girls’ dorm, she became aware that she had been holding her breath and let it out in a soft sigh.

"Hermione? When did you get back?" Ron asked.

She turned to find Ron looking at her. With another sigh, she walked over to the table. "Just a few minutes ago."

"I thought you were studying?"

"I was."

"Without your books?"

Hermione mentally kicked herself for forgetting to take her book bag. "The library is full of books, Ronald."

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Really? Fancy that. Hey, Harry, did you know that there’re books in the library?"

"So I’ve heard," Harry answered without looking up from the assignment he was working on.

"Very funny," Hermione said, "Now, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to go finish my work."

"Why don’t you bring it down here, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, studying is easier when you’re here to keep us focused," Ron added.

"You mean studying is easier when I’m here to give you the answers," she corrected.

They both grinned up at her and she gave them an exasperated sigh. "Alright. I’ll be back in a minute."

Hermione resigned herself to a long night of trying to help them without letting them cheat. If she was lucky, she would be able to get most of her work done as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	6. Liaisons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Snape’s liaison continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're starting the second half of the story today. You'll notice that there are hardly any ellipses in this chapter. That's because I picked up a new beta and he ruthlessly culled them from my writing. *pouts* Ah, well, I guess it was for the best. The astute reader will catch a bit more explanation for events that happened in _Hermione's Detention_ towards the end of this chapter.

Hermione’s heart was racing as she approached the door to the Potions classroom. _This is it,_ she thought as she entered the room. As soon as she saw Professor Snape sitting there behind his desk, and his knowing eyes met hers, she flushed with embarrassment. She only caught a glimpse of the ever-so-slight smirk that twisted his thin lips before she dropped her gaze to the floor and slipped into her usual seat.

Hermione checked on her Polyjuice potion and let her mind drift; after all, she had pulled off this potion as a second year, and it wasn’t like she had anything to hide from him anymore. She quickly came to the realisation that thinking about her professor during class wasn’t a very wise idea when a shiver of pleasure coursed through her body as she recalled how incredible it felt when he was finally inside of her. If Snape had chosen that moment to look at her, he probably wouldn’t even have to give her a nudge; she would humiliate herself without his assistance.

She glanced up to find Snape giving her a stern look. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten about her Occlumency so easily. Hermione hoped he didn’t think her too undisciplined because of her temporary mental laxness. She was afraid that if she gave him reason to doubt her self-control that he would revoke their arrangement, and the very idea of never being with him again was unimaginable.

Potions passed uneventfully. Snape stayed out of her mind from that point onward, at least during class, and Hermione was relieved to finally be able to give her assignments her full attention once again. It took several frustrating days before she figured out that he was waiting for her to come to him. Early the following week she finally paid him another visit.

~*~

"Your Occlumency is progressing well," his tone was almost one of approval.

Hermione tried not to feel too pleased with herself. "Thank you, sir."

"Who has curfew patrol next week?"

"I do, sir. Why?"

Snape smiled suggestively. "Because, Miss Granger, I want you to do something for me."

"What is that, sir?"

"On Friday night’s patrol I want you to refrain from wearing any undergarments." His dark gaze dropped to just below her waist and then back up to her eyes as he spoke. "I also want you to meet me in the Great Hall when you’ve finished your patrol."

The lust evident in his gaze made Hermione shiver. "Of course, sir. Is that all?"

He considered her for a moment, then nodded. "For tonight."

Snape picked up her school robes and held them out for her. Hermione slipped into them and then turned to face him. As he began to straighten her house tie, she asked, "Professor?"

He finished fussing with her tie and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

"What about the contraceptive potion?"

"You only need to take it once per cycle, Miss Granger, but if you’re that fond of it, I’m sure I could come up with a substitute."

His lascivious smile left little doubt in her mind as to what that substitute would be. Hermione gave him a mischievous grin in return. "I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble just for me."

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Granger, I assure you."

~*~

Hermione walked around the school on patrol feeling very depraved due to her lack of undergarments and, much to her astonishment, rather enjoying the sensation. She passed the library and chivvied along some Ravenclaws who were loitering in the hall debating whether or not intent affected potions and if so, which ones and to what degree. On her way down to the dungeons she broke up an argument between some third year Slytherins and Gryffindors that looked like it was about to turn ugly, and sent them on their way with a stern warning and a five point deduction from each house.

Walking along the Potions corridor, Hermione thought she heard something. She paused, closing her eyes to listen more closely. A decidedly feminine voice, apparently in the throes of passion, was coming from one of the classrooms.

"Harder! Harder! Ooh, gods, yes! Just like that!"

As Hermione drew closer to the door she realised that she recognised the voice. _Pansy_ , she thought, rolling her eyes. Cautiously, she opened the door a crack. It screaked on it’s hinges and Hermione cringed, silently cursing Snape for not keeping his classroom doors oiled. In the dim light of the room she could just barely make out the couple. Pansy, she had been right about the voice, was up against the blackboard with her legs wrapped around the waist of some unidentifiable male student.

Hermione watched them quietly, unwilling to interrupt them when they seemed so close to the carnal goal they were chasing. She knew she should leave but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from the boy’s arse, which was contracting rhythmically with each of his forceful thrusts. Pansy gasped and Hermione glanced up to look at her face. As if on cue, Pansy looked over the boy’s shoulder right into Hermione’s eyes and smiled. It was a slowly spreading expression that acknowledged Hermione without giving away her presence.

Pansy was moaning louder with each stroke, perhaps incited by the knowledge that she had an audience now. "Ah, gods! I’m almost there! Oh yes, yes, sweet Merlin, yes!" she cried out.

Her paramour stiffened and groaned, obviously reaching his own release as the last quakes of Pansy’s climax washed over him. His body relaxed and he dropped her legs, letting her slide back down the wall as he pulled out of her. "50 points for Hufflepuff," Pansy said as they set about straightening their uniforms.

"50 points from Hufflepuff," Hermione said from the open doorway when they were both decent again. "You can’t give out points for sexual favours, Pansy."

"Spoil sport," Pansy pouted.

"You should have warded the room if you didn’t want to have your _fun_ spoilt," Hermione stated.

"But half the fun is in the possibility of being discovered."

Hermione shook her head in wonder at Pansy’s lack of modesty. "Get back to your dormitories," she ordered, crossing her arms in front of her.

As the boy walked sullenly through the doorway, casting backward glances at Pansy as though he was seeking her permission to leave, Hermione recognised him. He was the Hufflepuff seeker, Summerby. Pansy nodded at him as she drew closer to Hermione, her breast brushing ever-so-slightly against Hermione’s arm. Hermione studiously ignored Pansy’s encroachment. "A Hufflepuff?"

"They have their uses," Pansy’s voice was a suggestive purr. She looked Hermione in the eyes and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with what she saw in that look. "Poor little mudblood," Pansy stroked Hermione’s hair as she spoke, "Not getting enough from your Keeper, so you have to interfere with everyone else’s fun?" leaning in closer, she whispered, "Next time you should do more than just watch."

Hermione was at a complete loss for words, but by the time she thought of something to say in response Pansy was already gone, her mocking laugh echoing down the hall _. I wonder what Pansy would say if she knew that I was shagging her Head of House?_ Hermione smiled briefly as she imagined Pansy’s shock and with that thought she headed up to the Great Hall.

When she arrived her eyes swept the room hastily, but she didn’t see Snape anywhere. She began to walk slowly around the edge of the room. After a few moment’s exploration someone grabbed her from behind, quickly covering her mouth with a firm hand as she drew in breath to scream. Hermione struggled against her captor until she heard him hiss, "You’re late."

Snape pulled her back into the shadows and Hermione felt his lips graze her neck. She moaned softly against his hand as he sucked her earlobe in between his teeth and began to nibble on it. His free hand was busy with her robes and soon he had worked his way underneath them and up her thigh. Hermione trembled against him. Her heart, still racing from the scare he had given her, gave no sign of slowing down anytime soon - especially if his fingers continued their journey upward.

"Well, at least you did as you were told," he noted as his fingers finally reached their destination. "How many amorous couples did you have to break up tonight? Or did you merely watch?" He paused long enough to plunge a finger inside of her. "Yes, you must’ve watched," his silky voice sent shivers down her spine, "Why else would you be so late ... and so wet?"

He dragged that wetness back up to her clit and began to stoke the fire of her arousal into a raging inferno. Hermione was burning with need as the flames curled outward from her centre and consumed her. The intensity of his touch was nearly unbearable. Had she been able to speak she would have begged him to stop. As it was, all she could do was whimper and writhe under his hands. Just when she was sure she could no longer stand the torment, she exploded and her world came crashing down around her.

Snape allowed her several moments to catch her breath, his hands absently stroking her arms, before he released her. When she was standing without his assistance he asked, "Where do you usually sit?"

Hermione walked over to the Gryffindor table and made her way towards her usual seat. "Here." Hermione pointed at the chair even though she knew he was well aware of where she sat.

Snape pulled out her chair and backed her up onto the table. Looking up at the enchanted ceiling he said, "There are your stars, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked up as well. The moon was nearly full and it lent its soft glow to the immense hall. "It’s so clear tonight," she said in a hushed tone as she searched the night sky for familiar constellations. Snape adjusted the chairs on either side of him and spread her legs apart until her feet were each resting on a seat. Hermione sighed as his hands roamed up her thighs, pushing her skirt up as he went. He continued up her sides until he was cupping her unrestrained breasts through the layers of her uniform. He ran his thumbs over her nipples and they stiffened at his touch. Without warning Snape pinched them and she gasped loudly, meeting his dark gaze with a look of shocked surprise.

He smirked at her. "I suppose I can forgive your inattentiveness for one night." Snape withdrew his wand from inside his robes and jabbed the tip of it at Hermione’s throat. She was about to object when he said, " _Silencio_." He tucked his wand back into his robes with a self-satisfied grin and began to unzip his trousers. When he had freed his erection he positioned himself between her thighs and grabbed her by the hips. Hermione threw her head back with a silent moan as he slid into her. Snape pulled her closer to the edge and she reclined comfortably back onto the table. Then he began a tantalising rhythm of several slow, deep strokes followed by a few quick, shallow strokes, and then fast and hard before slowing down again. He seemed determined to drive her mad with his unpredictable tempo.

As the tension built in her body, her breathing became more and more ragged. Her staccato gasps, underscored by Snape’s own laboured breathing, were the only sounds that broke the silence of the night. Hermione was suddenly grateful that he had used the Silencing charm on her, even if it was odd not to be hearing the moans she could feel being torn from her throat. Unlike Pansy, she had no desire to be caught in such a compromising position, especially by Filch.

The stars seemed to be spinning. Hermione could feel her orgasm building inside, like a bubble that was about to burst. With a silent cry of, "Oh, gods! Professor!" she peaked, arching up off the table briefly before her whole body went limp. When she had regained enough sense to wonder when Snape was going to finish, he was watching her with a slightly smug look of amusement. His movements had become languid, as if he had all the time in the universe and no fear of being caught taking advantage of one of his students. Hermione decided to give him some incentive and began to contract her pelvic muscles in roiling waves, milking his hard length from tip to base and back again. He arched an eyebrow at her and shivered visibly. Hermione smiled sweetly and mouthed, "Your turn." Snape closed his eyes, apparently enjoying the sensation, and shuddered as he drove into her. It only took a few more strokes before he made a deep sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh of contentment. After taking a few moments to slow his breathing, he pulled out of her.

Snape brought forth his wand once again. "Scourgify," he intoned softly, pointing the wand at first himself and then at Hermione. He straightened his clothing and then pulled Hermione upright and back onto her feet. Pointing his wand at her throat once again he lifted the Silencing charm and then returned his wand to its hidden pocket. "Will you be going home over the holiday?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. Snape’s black eyes narrowed dangerously and she quickly amended, "Yes, sir." She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay at Hogwarts. She wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t tell him that; even thinking it around him was risky.

"I expect you in my office as soon as classes resume so that we can continue working on your Occlumency, Miss Granger."

"Of course, Professor."

"We need to leave now." Snape said, ushering her towards the doors, "Peeves can’t keep Filch distracted all night."

"Peeves, sir?" Hermione looked at him questioningly. At his nod she continued, "How-?"

"Poltergeists are easily manipulated, Miss Granger."

When they reached the entrance to the Great Hall Snape paused. He turned to her, and an unreadable emotion flickered across his features. Lifting her chin with a crooked finger, he brushed his thumb lightly over her lips. "Good night, Miss Granger."

Hermione shivered. "Good night, sir." she replied softly.

He turned then and strode away, his robes flowing out behind him as he went. Hermione watched him as he descended the stairs. She was still standing there, staring after him for several long moments even after he had disappeared from view. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she turned and made her way back to Gryffindor Tower.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione considers her feelings for Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me fits like you would not believe. I finished it, or at least thought I had, sent it off to my beta, and then decided there was something missing when I got it back. That missing something turned out to be more smut - go figure. lol! I think this was the first time that I truly managed to pull off Snape as a cold hearted bastard, but there's a good reason for it.

Hermione went home for the winter holiday even though she had been invited to spend it at the Burrow. She knew that proximity would make Ron and Harry keener on enjoying her company and she didn't particularly feel like spending her entire break avoiding their advances. Besides, it would have made them suspicious. She tried reminding herself that Professor Snape had never requested her fidelity. However, the fact of the matter was that she felt incapable of disloyalty to him, even when she wasn’t assured of his faithfulness in return.

Christmas arrived and with it Hedwig bearing gifts from Ron and Harry and an invitation to a private New Years celebration. Along with her thank-you notes she included her regrets, making up something about her obligation to attend her parent’s gathering.

That evening, as she lay in bed, her thoughts worked themselves around to her relationship with Snape. While at school she was careful not to admit, even to herself, that she had developed feelings for him for fear that he might pick up on her thoughts and banish her from his favour. Of course, now that she was away from Hogwarts she was free to contemplate such things. She recalled quite clearly how she had felt when she first suspected he desired her. The shock had quickly worn off and been replaced by an arousal that had surprised her with its intensity.

Three months ago, when this whole decadent affair had started, her attraction to him was nothing more than physical, but now ... now there was something more, something she didn't even have a name for. She didn't believe it was love. She knew that emotion. She loved her parents, she loved Ron and Harry, she had even loved Victor in a way. This wasn't the same, but it wasn't simply lust either. Or perhaps it was. Maybe her insatiable hunger for him bound her to him tighter than any chain ever could. Whatever she called it, he had a hold over her that at once was frightening and yet somehow liberating.

She sighed and hugged her pillow, wishing her involvement with the Potion's master wasn't so complicated and, with her thoughts in a tangled knot of contradictions, she drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Hermione was dreaming; she had to be. She was sitting in her bed, completely naked. Professor Snape was siting on the edge of the bed holding a bottle of champagne. She watched his deft fingers peel away the foil and remove the wire cage from around the cork, wishing that he were putting those marvellous fingers of his to better use. As he was twisting the cork loose it suddenly shot across the room with a loud ‘popping’ noise that made Hermione gasp in surprise.

"Shhh, pet." He stroked her hair tenderly. "I didn’t mean to startle you."

He smiled at her while he poured the champagne. Hermione watched, mesmerised as the tiny bubbles raced each other to the surface of the golden liquid then winked out of existence with a tiny burst. She could feel herself floating along with the bubbles, weightless and carefree. She rather liked the sensation.

"Happy New Year, Miss Granger," he said, handing her a glass before pouring another for himself.

"Happy New Year, Professor," Hermione murmured as she took the glass and raised it to her lips. She hesitated a moment, enjoying the tickling sensation in her nose before taking a sip. Looking at him from over her glass she noticed that he wasn’t drinking and a shiver ran through her body. Whether it was from his dark, hungry gaze as his eyes swept over her naked form, or from the sudden chill of the room she wasn’t sure. Whatever the cause, it was short-lived because Hermione’s body was beginning to respond to the heat of his stare.

He took her glass from her and sat it on the bedside table along with his own. Hermione smiled invitingly at him and laid back among her pillows. He stood and she watched impatiently while he undressed. After doffing his clothes he climbed in next to her and began to fondle and caress her with the intimate skill of a familiar lover.

Hermione moaned his name softly, "Severus."

"Professor," he whispered in her ear, correcting her.

"We’re not at school," she pouted, annoyed that even in her dreams he was obdurate.

"You’re still my student," he replied running his tongue around the edge of her ear. He shifted over her, settling himself between her thighs. "Wake up, Miss Granger," he said as he plunged deep inside of her.

Hermione’s eyes flew wide open as he entered her, awakening her from her dream. "Professor?" she gasped, blinking up at him in astonishment, "what are you doing here?"

He thrust again as if in answer to her question. "I thought that much would be obvious," he responded dryly.

"You shouldn’t be here!" she hissed.

"Hence the appeal," he said with a smirk. "Besides, this is one of your fantasies, is it not? To have me buried between your thighs, here, in your own bed, surrounded by your favourite childhood possessions."

"Yes. Oh, sweet goddess!" she moaned, "Professor, please. My parents...."

"Won’t hear a thing as I’ve already warded your room. Really, Miss Granger, your lack of confidence in me is exasperating."

"I’m sorry, sir," she gasped as he drove into her again. "It’s just that—"

"Miss Granger!" he snapped, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "Quit your incessant chattering or I shall be forced to give you something else to do with your mouth."

Hermione did not speak again. Indeed, the only sounds that escaped her lips from that point on were her cries of pleasure as he repeatedly brought her to the brink of ecstasy and then pushed her over it into oblivion.

When he finally found his own release he flopped down next to her, lingering only long enough to catch his breath before rising to dress.

"Can’t you stay a little longer?" she pouted.

"No," he replied brusquely almost before she had finished speaking.

"But my parents won’t be up for at least a couple more hours," she implored.

He scowled at her. "Don’t make me regret this impromptu visit, Miss Granger. Perhaps you would have been happier had I left you yearning for me with nothing but your fingers to keep you satisfied?"

"No!" Hermione shook her head fervently. Casting her eyes downward she said, "I’m sorry, sir," with as much contrition as she could manage.

"That’s better," he said, lifting her chin so that she had to look at him. He stroked his thumb across her cheek lightly. "Farewell."

Hermione was nearly struck speechless by the affection she saw in his gaze. "Goodbye, sir," she whispered.

Snape released her, quickly turning his back to her. When he finished dispelling the privacy wards he had set, he turned to her again and their eyes locked briefly. He nodded to her and then with a loud crack he was gone.

~*~

Monday evening, after her meeting with Draco, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons to see Snape. She knocked softly on his office door and went inside, not waiting for an answer. A faint greenish glow sparked to life as she passed through the entrance, fading as soon as the door was closed. Hermione gave Snape an inquisitive look.

"I have set privacy wards that respond to your presence," Snape replied to her unasked question.

"I’m flattered," she said as she removed her robes and laid them gently over a precariously balanced stack of books.

"I trust your holiday was pleasant?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for asking."

Snape gave her a curt nod. "I also trust that you are ready to continue working on your Occlumency?"

"That is why I’m here, Professor."

"Is it really?" Snape arched an eyebrow at her and his voice dropped to a silky whisper. "I thought that you were here because I told you to _come_ ," he emphasised the final word and it sent a shiver through Hermione’s body.

"You’re correct, of course, sir, but I am ready to work on my Occlumency."

Snape smirked at her. "Good." Without any further warning Snape withdrew his wand and flicked it at her, intoning, " _Legilimens_."

Hermione was totally unprepared for his sudden invasion of her mind and she staggered under the assault. She placed her hands flat against his desk to steady herself. Leaning forward had put their eyes nearly level and his black gaze was so intent that she could practically feel the weight of it on her. Her vision began to blur and she saw Draco Malfoy’s image waver ghost-like in front of Snape, his pale perfection softening Snape’s harsh features, blending with them until everything went grey.

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind, but Snape was relentless. Suddenly, every secret daydream she had ever had about Draco came rushing up to break through the surface of her thoughts. His platinum locks sliding through her fingers ... those ice grey eyes raking over her ... his pampered hands grasping her hips ... his aristocratic voice, husky with pleasure, groaning ‘ _Oh, Granger_ ’ as they both hurtle towards their release....

"Show me more," Snape coaxed softly as he slipped his wand back into it’s pocket. Hermione shook her head again and tried to force him out of her thoughts. He pushed harder and she cried out, dropping to her knees. One hand was still clutching the edge of his desk and the other was pressed to her throbbing forehead. She was standing in front of Draco ... her wet tongue trailing down his ivory chest ... unzipping his trousers ... the velvety softness of him resting in her palm ... licking her lips ... taking him into her mouth ... feeling him swell ... his fingers tangled in her hair ... hearing him cry out as she swallowed him down....

"Get out!" she screamed.

Snape didn’t back off. His calm, commanding voice broke through her rage and flowed over her, "Control your emotions."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening her eyes as she exhaled. Snape was crouched in front of her with his dark eyes focused attentively on her. She took another deep breath and concentrated on slowing her racing pulse.

"Much better." Snape took her hands and stood, pulling her to her feet. "Let it all go." He propped her against the edge of his desk, the lean span of his body pressed so closely against hers that she could feel his hunger for her growing. "Forget the taste ... the texture ... the scent of his flesh...." Hermione wasn't sure if he was trying to be helpful or not. The tip of his nose brushed against hers, his eyes searching, still trying to draw her fantasies out but she had regained control and was keeping him at bay, at least for the moment.

"He wants you too," he stated simply.

"What?" she murmured, finding it difficult to concentrate on his words when so much of his body was in contact with hers. She knew that if he didn’t back away soon she would lose control again, but she was determined to maintain her Occlumency for as long as she could.

"I’ve seen what he wants to do to you." Snape pressed her against the desk until she was forced to perch on the edge and part her thighs to accommodate him. "He wants to taste you. He wants to plunge his tongue inside of you and drink you in."

Snape’s lips were hovering dangerously close to hers and Hermione was trembling with barely restrained desire. She wanted so badly to tilt her head and lean into him, to take the kiss that she knew he would never willingly offer. Instead, she settled for unbuttoning his black frock coat, and his crisp white shirt as it was revealed, button by tedious button.

"He wants to get you on your knees," Snape said, pulling out his wand and waving it over her lap before returning it to his pocket. He slipped his hand between her thighs and Hermione realised that he had Vanished her knickers. "He wants to mount you like a rutting beast." He slipped a finger inside of her, his thumb pressing against her clit. "And fuck you until you cry out his name."

Hermione shivered. The image of a primal encounter with Draco blazed to life as Snape’s seductive voice provided all the explicit details. She wondered briefly if what she was seeing was of her own imagining or if Snape was somehow feeding her what he had skimmed from Draco’s thoughts.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked in breathless tones, his buttons temporarily forgotten as her focus shifted inward.

"Because, I told you I’d make _all_ of your fantasies come true."

Snape’s fingers had found her rhythm and Hermione was struggling to remain coherent. "Oh, sweet Merlin!" she moaned, "you _want_ me to have sex with him?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger," he said with a smirk.

Hermione’s orgasm hit her like a bolt of lightning out of the clear, blue sky. As the intensity ebbed, her whole body was suffused with a delicious tingling that left her yearning for another kind of fulfilment. When she reached for his belt, Snape caught her wrists with his free hand.

"Not so fast."

"Sev—" At his frosty glare, Hermione caught herself. "Professor, please," she pleaded.

"You know what I want from you first." He raised an eyebrow as he spoke, his look expectant.

"I can’t," she said, shaking her head. "He hates me."

"There’s a great deal of passion involved in hating someone, pet."

Hermione shook her head again, her lips pressed together in a tight line of defiance.

"Very well then." Snape took a step away from her and began to button up his shirt.

"Don’t!" she begged, her throat constricting as panic seized her, turning her plea into a sob. He barely spared a glance up for her. "Please don’t make me do this, sir," she whispered, her amber eyes beseeching him.

"I have not placed you under the Imperius curse, Miss Granger. You are free to do as you wish."

A cold dread filled her, freezing the remnants of her desire. She could hear the unspoken conjunction in his statement and gave it voice, "But?"

He gave her a pitiless smile. "However, _if_ you refuse then I’m afraid that I’ll have no further use for you."

Hermione’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach with an unsettling lurch. She fought back the tears that were threatening to well up in her eyes, then nodded. "Fine," her voice was small, defeated, but it wavered only slightly as she spoke, "I’ll do whatever you want."

Snape closed the distance between them and Hermione’s senses were swimming in the sea of his intoxicating presence once again. He pulled off his coat, tossing it over his chair. "I know what you want," he said as he took her hands and guided them towards his belt. "Even when you’re too timorous to reach out and take it," he paused, a slight smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as she began to work the buckle, "You would do well to remember that fact."

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied meekly. She knew she should leave, just walk right out of his office and never come back, but she couldn’t seem to move. She hated herself for how quickly she was responding to his nearness and how much she still wanted him, even after he had just been so callous towards her. Why was it that her will power always seemed to fly out the window whenever he was near? All she seemed to care about anymore were the moments when they were alone together. She thought about him during classes, in-between classes, while studying, eating, bathing, and every other waking moment of every day. She fell asleep remembering their most recent encounter, dreamt about him every night, and woke up aching for him every morning.

As she undid his zipper her hands trembled, yet she didn’t even try to consider whether it was because of her frantic lust or her fear of losing him. The only thing she was concerned with at the moment was getting him free of his trousers. When she finally had the object of her desire in hand, she began to guide him towards her aching sex. When he held back, Hermione made a disgruntled sound in the back of her throat.

Snape merely snickered at her. "You want something different tonight," he said, his silky purr gliding over her flesh as his eyes searched hers. "Something you’ve been craving since you gave up those two half-wits," he continued, as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her off his desk, spinning her around. "Something deviant," he whispered against her ear.

A shiver of anticipation mingled with dread ran through Hermione’s body. She knew exactly what he had in mind and he was right; she wanted it even though she could hardly admit it to herself, much less to him. Her pulse raced wildly as he bent her over his desk. The trembling in her hands spread to the rest of her body when his hands made contact with her thighs. As he pushed her skirt up over her hips she could only hope that he’d be gentler with her than he usually was.

" _Accio_ _lubricare calefacio_ ," he intoned and a small pot floated off one of the shelves to land in his outstretched palm. He opened it and placed it on his desk. Grabbing Hermione’s right hand he dipped her middle finger in the slippery substance and then guided it to her clit. The cold gel made Hermione gasp in shock, but it soon warmed as she stoked her finger slowly over the sensitive nub of flesh. The more she rubbed, the warmer it got, until she was squirming and moaning at the slightest touch.

"Like it?" Snape asked in a husky whisper as a wave of shivers swept through her body.

"Yes," she gasped, barely able to speak through the sensation. "What is it?"

"One of my own concoctions," Snape said as he dipped his own fingers into the pot and smeared the gel onto his penis before dipping his fingers into it once again.

Hermione felt his hand brush over her arse as his fingers delved between her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat when he pushed a finger inside her and escaped in a low moan when he began to work it slowly in and out. The lubricant quickly warmed, and as soon as Hermione had relaxed he added another finger. It wasn’t long before Hermione was writhing in pleasure, slowly stroking herself in time with his gently thrusting fingers.

When Snape stopped and removed his fingers she nearly cried out in frustration but her irritation was quickly replaced by a moment of apprehension when she felt him pressing against her. She took a deep breath and let it out in a lingering moan as he slid into her, grateful that he paused long enough for her to adjust to his girth before he took up a slow, shallow rhythm.

"Do you know why you enjoy this so much?" he asked her.

"Why?" she managed to gasp.

"Because it makes you feel like one of those five Galleon whores that haunts Knockturn alley."

Hermione started to protest but she couldn’t deny the truth of his words, especially when he was driving deeper and harder and her universe was starting to spin out of control. She knew he was still holding back and, although she appreciated his self-control, she wanted more. "Faster," she gasped, not really caring if she couldn’t sit down at all tomorrow. Her arse was burning but it wasn’t from his invasion. The marvellous lubricant was responding to his increased speed and Hermione was desperately trying not to speed up herself. She knew she had to keep herself on the edge of her orgasm for as long as possible to remain comfortable, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold herself back. Between the ecstasy of him moving inside of her and her finger stroking her clit faster and faster she was rapidly approaching an earth-shattering orgasm. She could only hope that he followed her quickly as her whole body contracted, and then exploded – every muscle in her body clenching and then releasing as a surge of pleasure coursed through her body.

When she wound down she realised that she had bit into the tender flesh of her forearm so violently that she had drawn blood. She lapped at it idly with her tongue as Snape shuddered behind her, coming with a hoarse groan. He managed a few more slow strokes as his erection faded before pulling out of her.

His hands left her hips and her skirt slipped back down over her bum. A few seconds later she heard his voice as he performed the cleansing charm on them both and the warm, slippery sensation of the lubricant disappeared. She struggled to an upright position, her muscles still quivering with fatigue, and turned to face him. Snape was buttoning up his shirt and she watched him quietly. She could feel the heat of a blush colouring her cheeks as she thought about what she had just let him do to her and how much she had enjoyed it. Hermione blushed even deeper when his dark gaze fell on her and his thin lips curled into a knowing smirk.

When they had both finished straightening their clothes he spoke. "You will meet Draco Friday evening in the Room of Requirement." Hermione opened her mouth to object but shut it again at the stern look on his face. "I trust you can come up with a suitable pretence for such a meeting?" he asked and Hermione nodded. "Good." He ushered her towards the door, saying, "You should get back to your common room before your absence is noticed."

She paused at the door, reluctant to leave, but Snape opened it and arched a brow at her expectantly. She exited quickly through the faint green glow, a soft sigh escaping from her as the door clicked shut without so much as a ‘good evening’ from Snape. As she walked slowly back to her dorm she thought about Draco. What had she agreed to? What if he laughed at her, or worse.... Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t show up. She hoped so, even as a small part of her secretly hoped that he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	8. Requirements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione follows through with Snape's plan against her better judgment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the first chapter I wrote. When I finished Hermione’s Detention my friend asked me who was in the Room of Requirements with Hermione. I thought it was an odd question, since I assumed it was Snape. But then I asked [echtrae](http://archiveofourown.org/users/echtrae) what he thought, and he said he had the impression that it was someone else as well. That got me thinking, and the plot bunnies nibbling.... This chapter is what came from that innocent question.

Hermione was starting to panic. "I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go through with this." She stared at Snape imploringly hoping he’d release her from their little bargain.

"It’s too late for second thoughts, Miss Granger. He’ll be here any moment." Snape sat down in a plain wooden chair that was tucked into the corner of the room and disappeared.

"How...? How did you do that without an invisibility cloak?" Hermione asked curiously.

"There is more than one way to become unseen," came Snape’s disembodied voice from the seemingly empty chair.

"You do know that voyeurism wasn’t a part of this particular fantasy?"

"Yes, I do," his voice clearly betrayed his amusement, "but since I set this encounter in motion I feel entitled to see how it plays out. Besides, you of all people should appreciate the pleasures of scopophilia."

She scoffed at him, but had to admit to herself a certain enjoyment in watching Ron and Harry.

A knock at the door startled Hermione out of her reverie. She tried to remain calm as she opened the door. "Hello, Draco. Thank you for coming." She hoped he wouldn’t notice that she was trembling.

"I got your note, Granger."

"Obviously."

"What the hell is so bloody important that it couldn’t wait until our weekly meeting? And why are we here?" Looking around he took in the roaring fire and the large four poster along the far wall, realisation creeping into his features. He looked back at her licking his lips. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

She recognised that look, had seen it on his face dozens of times but mistaken it for contempt. "As a matter of fact, Draco, there is." She hesitated, "You see, I’ve always found you, well, rather attractive...." She stopped, not sure that she could continue.

"Go on," he prompted.

"And ... I just thought that, since we’re adults now, we could put the past behind us. At least for one night...." She felt the heat of a fierce blush creeping up her neck as she tried to look anywhere but into his eyes.

Draco shed his robes and tossed them carelessly aside. Lifting her chin he said, "It’s about bloody time you admitted it."

"I figured you’d be a bit more," she paused, searching for the right word, "I don’t know ... surprised?"

"Surprised? I’ve know we’d end up shagging since third year."

"Why third year?"

"Because, Granger, that was when you bitch-slapped me, remember?"

"Oh, right. Sorry about that, but you were being—"

"Foul ... loathsome ... evil?" his lips hovered so close to hers that she could almost taste his breath as he spoke.

"Beastly ... is what I was going for ... actually...."

"Of course." He kissed her lightly. Hermione froze; her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure even Snape could hear its erratic beating. Draco was running his tongue slowly back and forth between her lips, seeking entrance. When she opened her mouth, his tongue slipped in and began a leisurely exploration. Oh my, he’s good at this, Hermione thought as he manoeuvred her towards the bed without taking his mouth off hers. His hands were busy behind her as they moved, and she wasn’t surprised when her skirt hit the floor seconds before she made contact with the edge of the bed.

When he finally broke away to pull her jumper off Hermione was flushed and breathless. As he removed his vest, her eyes flitted to the corner where Snape sat watching. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Draco recaptured her lips and soon they were both eagerly working loose tie knots and undoing shirt buttons. She ran her hands down his bare arms, pushing his shirt off as he did the same. His hands snaked around her waist and then up her back. A few seconds later her bra slipped down her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor between them.

"Oh, Granger," he groaned against her mouth, cupping a breast in each hand, "I can’t wait to taste you." His thumbs grazed her nipples making her gasp as they responded to his touch. "Lie back."

She cast another quick glance in Snape’s direction before relaxing back onto the bed. Draco stooped to trail feather light kisses across her belly and down her legs as he slid her knickers off. When he coaxed her legs apart Hermione was sure that she heard Snape groan; luckily, Draco didn’t seem to notice. All thoughts of her professor were driven from her mind when she felt Draco’s tongue slip between her thighs. Hermione twitched and thrashed under Draco’s ministrations. Just when she thought that she would go mad from the pleasure she peaked, crying out as her back arched up off the mattress, her toes curling against his sides.

Draco grabbed her hands pulling her upright as he stood. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, and Hermione could taste herself on him. Taking a step back he stripped out of his trousers and pants. Hermione sat there studying him. His skin was smooth and alabaster; his body long, lean, and well toned. Quidditch. She was beginning to see a pattern in the boys she was attracted to. Her eyes trailed down and she bit her lip unconsciously.

"Like what you see, Granger?" he smirked at her.

Hermione felt herself flush scarlet again.

Laughing softly he said, "You’re right dishy when you blush."

His eyes raked over her, and she suddenly began to feel self-conscious. She turned from him and crawled onto the centre of the bed. After a moment of deliberation she decided to make the most of the situation by positioning herself so that she was facing Snape. "Come here." She patted the bed next to where she sat.

Draco willingly complied. Once he had joined her on the bed he laid siege to her mouth again, dragging her down with him as he lay back on the bed. Hermione straddled him.

"Top, Granger?" He arched an eyebrow at her in mock surprise. "I’m shocked."

Somehow she doubted that. Smiling wantonly, she hovered above his jutting erection. Then she slowly began to lower herself. When she felt the tip of him graze her sensitive flesh she rose up. She hovered there for a moment, still smiling, watching his reaction. When she descended again she grazed his entire length, dragging her clit along his hardness with a shiver and a small, gasping sigh. The third time she actually took him in a little, only to pull away again as his eyes began to roll back.

"Tease." His tone was accusatory but the look in his eyes said that he was enjoying it.

"Do you want something?" Hermione asked with affected innocence.

"Yes, Granger. I want to get inside you, feel you wrapped around my knob ... want to hear you scream my name when you come."

His words shot straight to her core, and her body trembled with need. She debated giving him what they both so desperately wanted but decided to see just how far she could push him. When she started to pull back again he was anticipating her retreat. Grabbing her by the hips, he thrust upwards sharply as he pulled her back down.

"Oh!" It was a throaty cry of pleasure and she heard his echoing groan in reply. Hermione wasted no breath on false chastisements and soon they were both moving in a synchronous rhythm. Draco’s hands strayed from her hips, pulling her down into a fiery kiss. Their tongues swirled around each other in an ancient dance, mimicking the rhythm of their coupling. When Hermione finally came up for air, Draco trailed kisses down her neck. His stomach muscles contracted as he moved even lower, his tongue flicking over a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Hermione gasped with pleasure, her heavy-lidded gaze focused across the room where Snape sat, watching.

Draco’s teeth grazed her nipple as he let it slip from his mouth and she gave a shuddering sigh. Placing her hands on his chest she pressed him back against the bed as she pushed herself upright. Reaching up he seized her breasts, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "Bring those back."

Hermione shook her head impishly.

"Right then," He shifted focus. One hand went back to rest on her hip and the other ventured down between them both until his thumb was pressed against her clit. "Time to make you scream my name."

Hermione knew it wouldn’t take long as she was already quite aroused by the knowledge that they were being observed. She moved her hands to his thighs, leaning back slightly to grant Draco easier access and Snape a better view. She began to move languidly, her thighs flexing rhythmically. The familiar pressure of an unstoppable tidal wave of ecstasy was steadily building within her. It started underneath Draco’s thumb and spread outward along her nerves like wildfire. "Oh, gods. Oh, yes," she gasped, "Oooh, sweet Merlin! Draco! Oh, Draco!" She threw her head back arching like a bow as she cried out her release.

His hands went around her waist, supporting her as she relaxed. Sitting up, he pulled her against his chest and draped her arms around his neck. "Wrap your legs around me and hang on," he instructed softly. He scooted them to the edge of the bed. With his hands securely gripping her thighs he stood. After taking a few steps towards the fireplace he knelt slowly lowering them both to the floor. Hermione felt the thick rug underneath her and was suddenly grateful Snape was so meticulous. Draco grabbed her left ankle and brought her leg across his chest to rest on top of her right one.

"What are you doing?"

"Flipping you over. Get on your knees, Granger." He grabbed her hips and gave her a tug.

Hermione thought that it was a rather odd sensation twisting around him like that. She got her knees under her and rested her weight on her forearms, clasping her hands together. If she turned her head to the left a little she could see Snape’s chair a few feet away from them. She wondered if he was enjoying the show, and then all thought driven out of her mind by a hard thrust that made her groan, her vision go grey, and her toes curl. Each successive stroke hit the same spot, eliciting increasingly louder moans from her. She could tell Draco was getting close. His thrusting was becoming more and more insistent. Hermione was about to tumble over the edge again. Her head dropped to rest on her folded hands, her eyes closing. Her breath caught in her throat for a heartbeat... two ... three, and she chanted his name all the way down like a mantra. "Draco! Draco! Oh gods, Draco!"

Draco flopped forward onto her seconds later and they slid down, Hermione unable to support their combined weight.

Brushing her hair away from her ear, he whispered, "Damn, Granger, we should’ve done this years ago." Then he rolled off of her.

She turned her head and looked into his ice grey eyes.

Draco eyed her warily, "You’re not going to get all sentimental on me now, are you?"

"No, Malfoy," she retorted crisply, "No need to get worried."

"Good." He got up and pulled his wand out of his robes. "Scourgify." Then he looked at her. "Want me to do you, Granger?" He snickered softly at his own joke. "Wait. I just did."

Hermione snorted in annoyance. "I can do it myself, thanks."

"No, really, let me." He flicked his wand at her. "Scourgify. There, never let it be said that I’m not a gentleman." He gave her a mock bow, which Hermione found quite amusing considering that he was still starkers.

They dressed quickly and silently. Hermione was searching for her panties when she noticed Draco watching her, clearly amused.

"Looking for these?" He pulled her knickers out of his trouser pocket.

"Yes, Malfoy, I am."

"Thought so." He pocketed them again.

"I’d like them back please."

"Too bad; they’re mine now."

"Malfoy!" she glared at him. "You can’t have them."

"I already have them, Granger."

"Fine! You can’t keep them then."

"Oh, really? Watch me." He moved to the door, his fingers resting on the handle. "Thanks for the souvenir, Granger." He winked as he ducked out of the room, barely evading being hit by the full body bind she hurled at him.

"Well, great! That’s just lovely," Hermione spun to glare at the chair where Snape still sat, unseen. "My knickers are going to be tacked up in the Slytherin common room tomorrow like some perverse trophy – I hope you’re satisfied!"

Snape appeared suddenly, standing in front of the chair, his cold eyes fixated on her. "Not nearly, Miss Granger, are you?"

There was something in his eyes that sent chills of apprehension through Hermione. "Sir?"

He advanced on her and she instinctively took a step backwards.

"Did ... you... enjoy ... yourself?" Each word was punctuated by a step and he was undoing his trousers as he stalked her.

Hermione backed away from him, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure what he expected her to say and knew she couldn’t lie to him; she decided on the truth. "Yes, Professor." She stopped abruptly, the bed right behind her.

He shoved her backwards taking her fast and hard, making Hermione cry out. Buried deep inside her, he paused to ask icily, "Did you enjoy him touching you?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered, afraid that saying it any louder would only anger him more. As it was her confession provoked a brutal rhythm from him.

"Did ... you ... like ... having ... him ... inside ... you?" He slammed into her with each word, wrenching guttural moans from her throat. "Answer me!" he snarled in impatience.

"Yes," she managed to gasp.

"More than me?"

They both stopped dead, his eyes locked on hers. The tension between them was almost palpable.

"No, Professor," She said, shaking her head adamantly.

His dark eyes narrowed. Her vision swam as he invaded her mind, his usual subtlety gone. She had expected it, but the intensity of it still shocked her. Images of Draco came rushing to the surface of her consciousness as she struggled against the blackness that was threatening to take hold of her. Draco thrusting into her ... Snape matched his rhythm ... Draco’s thumb ... Snape’s thumb. The images shifted unexpectedly and she was outside herself, watching. She felt intensely aroused ... struggling with self-restraint ... something else ... niggling feeling ... tugging at the edges of perception ... mine ... recognition ... then disgust... and anger ... all wrapped up in a painful frustration.

She knew what he wanted, what he needed from her tonight. She also knew it meant breaking his rules, but if she didn’t.... Then she was crying out his name, "Severus! Severus! Oh, Sweet Merlin! Severus!" Hermione welcomed his weight as he collapsed onto her, physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she held him close as the tremors that raked his body gradually subsided.

Snape propped himself up slightly on his elbows, one hand stroking her hair and the thumb of the other lightly caressing her cheek. His dusky eyes were full of concern. "Did I hurt you?" His brow furrowed.

Hermione shook her head. She knew that if she hadn’t been with Draco earlier he would have. Of course, if she hadn’t been with Draco none of this would have happened anyway. As usual, he seemed to sense her thoughts.

"I shouldn’t have pushed you into this situation."

"It’s alright."

"No, Hermione. It is not all right."

She was dumbstruck by his use of her first name. When she could form words again she mumbled, "I’m fine. Really."

Snape disentangled himself from her gently; then stood up. Instead of zipping up his trousers, as she had expected him to do, he took them off along with the rest of his clothing. When he had finished undressing, he pulled Hermione up and stripped her as well. She was wondering what he was planning, as he obviously wasn’t about to ravish her again in his present state, when he took her face in his hands and lowered his lips to brush lightly against hers. Her legs went weak as he traced her lips with his tongue. Completely taken aback, Hermione offered no resistance. His tongue slid into her mouth and made a slow circuit, tasting, exploring. Hermione moaned into his mouth.

She realised then why he had never kissed her before. Of everything they had done together, this simple act was by far the most intimate. She had wanted this for so long and now here he was, devouring her mouth like a man half-starved. His hands left her face to pull her closer. Hermione could feel his passion beginning to stir and her body responded even as his kiss slowly wound down. When he finally broke their kiss she was breathless. He got into the bed, pulling her down with him. Taking her into his arms he said, "Get some sleep, pet. You’ve had a busy evening, and you should rest."

Hermione started to speak but he put a finger to her lips, shaking his head slightly. The stern look he gave her was more than enough to prevent her from arguing that she was fine. Resigned, she laid her head on his chest and fell asleep to the steady sound of his heart beating.

~*~

She woke hours later still enfolded in his arms. She didn’t open her eyes. Instead she lay there smiling to herself as she remembered how he had woke her in the middle of the night. It was so different from their usual frenetic couplings; they were hardly ever completely naked and unhurried when they were alone together. If she had thought he was an exceptional lover before, now she was sure. He had canvassed her body with his hands and lips discovering places that responded to his touch that even Hermione hadn’t been aware of. She had floated on waves of ecstasy, cresting and diminishing over and over until she thought she would die from the pleasure he was giving her. When they had finally collapsed, she was so thoroughly sated that she had drifted back off to sleep almost immediately.

Hermione was suddenly aware of his hand running up and down her back.

"Did you sleep well, pet?"

"Mhmmm." She responded lethargically. "What time is it?"

"Early enough for you to still slip back to your dormitory undetected."

"I suppose I should get up and get dressed then."

"We both should, yes."

Hermione left his side reluctantly, wishing that they could get away with staying there forever. Snape was clothed and waiting for her by the fireplace, which had burned down to nothing but glowing embers, when she finished dressing. She joined him by the hearth. As she reached for the pot of Floo powder on the mantle Snape stayed her hand. She looked up at him, a question on her lips.

He spoke quietly, "What happened in this room changes nothing between us, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, "I understand, sir."

"Good. I will see you in my office after breakfast, then?"

"Yes, Professor."

Snape took the pot off the shelf and held it out to her. "You had best be on your way then."

"Thank you." Hermione grabbed a handful of the powder and flung it into the ashes saying, "Gryffindor tower." Then she stepped into the green blaze. Seconds later she was stepping out of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room and making her way up the staircase to her bed.

~*~

When she got up an hour later and washed and dressed for breakfast, no one was the wiser. She had an understanding with her dorm mates. They never asked why she came in so late, where she had been or whom she had been with and she returned the favour. Besides, they probably assumed she had been with Ron, and Hermione wasn’t about to discourage that belief. She just hoped that they would never hint to Ron that they knew.

She was dreading breakfast. Thoughts of her panties on display in the Slytherin common room made the very idea of walking into the Great Hall about as appealing as walking into a nest of vipers. Hermione knew there was nothing to be done for it except to just get it over with and try to keep her head held high in the process. She was prepared for everything except for the distinct lack of commotion at the Slytherin table when she walked in. Curious, she thought as she sat down between Ron and Ginny. Chancing a glance at Draco she saw that he was conversing intimately with Pansy and apparently hadn’t even noticed her enter. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to know? Probably ashamed to admit he shagged a filthy mudblood. Arrogant prat! She was so busy mentally berating Draco that she didn’t even notice she was being addressed.

"You all right, Hermione?" Ginny asked, "You look a bit peaky."

"I’m fine, Ginny. I just didn’t sleep very well last night, that’s all." She smiled at her reassuringly.

"Morning, Hermione." Ron gave her a peck on the cheek. "What’s this about not sleeping well?"

"Oh, nothing, just the normal stress of N.E.W.T. year."

Ron leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "You should’ve let us know. Harry and I could’ve helped you relax." He squeezed Harry’s thigh under the table and turned towards him. "Right, Harry?"

Harry, his attention now focused on Ron, seemed at a loss. "Huh?"

Hermione watched as Ron leaned closer to Harry and whispered conspiratorially with him. Harry’s emerald eyes glinted mischievously. "That’s right." He smiled playfully at her. "We’d have welcomed the distraction, Hermione."

She couldn’t help but smile at them. "You two don’t need any more distractions."

"You can never have too many distractions," said Ron, "Keeps things interesting."

Harry laughed, nearly spraying the pumpkin juice he had been drinking out his nose.

"Am I missing something?" Ginny asked, looking curious.

Ron put her off, "Nah, you’re not missing anything. Finish your breakfast, Ginny."

"Quit trying to tell me what to do, Ronald!" she glowered at him.

"All right, Ginny, sorry. Take it easy." Ron shook his head in exasperation and mouthed "P.M.S." at Hermione who rolled her eyes at him.

She took some toast, spread it with marmalade, and ate in silence. Ron and Harry went back to eating and talking amongst themselves. Occasionally Hermione would glance up at the head table to see if Snape had finished yet or across the room at Draco, who remained oblivious to her presence. When Snape finished she gave him a few minutes head start and then excused herself from the table.

~*~

Walking slowly through the corridors, Hermione made her way down to the dungeons and knocked on the door to Snape’s office.

"Enter."

Hermione went inside, closing the door behind her. "Good morning, Professor."

Snape was sitting at his desk, watching her. He nodded slightly in greeting. "Miss Granger." Standing up, he walked over to a wall cupboard and opened it removing a vial from within. Crossing the small room in a few strides he handed it to Hermione.

She examined the potion in the vial. "This is different from the one I usually take."

"I trust you understand why?"

"Yes, Professor. I was merely commenting." Hermione unstopped the vial and lifted it to her lips, draining it with a grimace. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before passing the empty vial back to Snape. "Thank you."

"It’s the least I could do," he said as he pocketed the vial.

Actually, it wasn’t. He didn’t have to do anything for her and they both knew it. Hermione comprehended what he wasn’t saying perfectly well. There was an awkwardness between them. She hoped it wasn’t something that she was going to have to get used to, because she didn’t much care for the feeling. She looked at Snape, wondering if she should go or stay.

"You had better leave before your friends begin to wonder where you’ve run off to." Snape moved back behind his desk and sat down, distancing himself from her.

"Of course, Professor." When she reached the door she paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Good day, sir."

"Good day, Miss Granger."

~*~

Hermione wandered the halls of Hogwarts aimlessly until she ended up at the library. Not surprising really, as she spent so much time there. She decided that as long as she was there she might as well get some studying done. Wandering through row after row, she pulled out books at random until her load got too heavy to carry. Walking over to an out of the way table in the back of the room she plunked the stack down as she sat. Several minutes passed as she flipped the yellowing pages before she realised she was looking through a potions book. Hermione sighed heavily. Curious, she began searching the book. Finally finding what she had been looking for, she ran her finger down the list of ingredients: four thyme leaves – macerated, a handful of juniper berries – crushed, the seeds from one Queen’s Anne Lace flower gathered at the new moon, an unfertilised chicken’s egg, five hairs from the mane of a mule.... Ugh, no wonder it had tasted so vile.

Hermione pushed the book aside and opened another. Normally she took comfort in books, the smell of worn leather, the aged vellum rustling as she turned the pages, but today her thoughts kept drifting back to Snape and last night. They had each broken the rules of their relationship, both spoken and unspoken. Even though he had said it wouldn’t change anything it obviously had. Maybe he just needs some time, Hermione hoped, Maybe we both do. So, she resolved to give it time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	9. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Snape have a falling out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end, so I had to cast another Cruciatius on their relationship. I'm a bit of a sadist that way. *evil grin* But you know what they say, the course of true love never did run smooth. Or true lust for that matter.... Besides, it gave me a chance to play with Draco some more.

Monday evening after supper Hermione made her way to the Prefect’s lounge. She sat down at the long, wooden table to await Draco. Lost in thought, she worried her Head Girl badge idly. She had no idea what she was going to say to him about Friday, or even if she should say anything at all. No matter what she came up with, it seemed awkward at best. She eventually decided to just follow Draco’s lead, and so she waited, drumming her fingers impatiently against the worn surface of the table. When Draco sauntered in ten minutes later, Hermione scowled at him.

"Something got your knickers in a twist?" Draco asked, perching casually on the edge of the table, one foot resting on the seat next to hers.

"You’re late," she stated crisply.

"Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Granger."

Hermione’s furrowed brow showed her confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You send me a note saying that there’s an urgent situation we need to address, and to meet you after curfew patrol, then you don’t show. And now you have the nerve to complain that _I’m_ a few minutes late?" Draco snorted his incredulity.

She had been prepared for him to act like it had not happened, but his preposterous accusation baffled her. "I didn’t—"

"Don’t play innocent with me. It was in your handwriting." Draco paused, a smirk spreading over his features. "Do you know what I think?"

"No, but I suppose you’re going to tell me anyway?"

"I think you were going to try to seduce me."

Hermione tried to sound bored even as her pulse quickened. "Oh, really?" she asked hoping to buy herself enough time to figure out what Draco was playing at.

"Yes, really," he drawled, "but then you remembered that I have standards."

Hermione stood abruptly, her open hand making contact with his face before she even had time to think about what she was doing.

Draco grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him painfully. "You little bitch!" he snarled.

Hermione gasped in shock and their eyes met. They both seemed to realise just how close they were to each other at the same moment. The blood red print blazed bright against his pale, ivory skin. Hermione fought back the sudden urge to lean into him and kiss the disdainful curl from his lips, but she couldn’t help glancing at his mouth. When she looked back up into his eyes his expression had transformed into a smirk.

"What’s the matter, Granger? Did I hit a little too close to the truth?"

"Don’t be ridiculous, Malfoy," Hermione scoffed. She yanked her arm away from him and sank back into her chair, rubbing at her wrist. Something was definitely wrong. He obviously didn’t remember what had happened Friday, and there was only one explanation that fit. She was going to have to have a little talk with Professor Snape.

~*~

Hermione stormed into Snape's office without even bothering to knock. "You Obliviated him, didn't you?"

Snape ignored her intrusion and continued to grade papers.

She tapped her foot impatiently, glaring at him. "Aren’t you going to answer me?"

"No," Snape responded without sparing her a glance.

"No you didn’t, or no you’re not going to answer me?"

"Take it however you like."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Miss Granger, that I really do not see the point in answering your question when you have clearly reached your own conclusion on the matter."

"Do you deny it then?"

"I have no reason to do so."

"Then you admit it?"

Snape sighed and put down his quill, finally focusing on her. "Yes, I admit that I did indeed modify his memory. There. Are you satisfied?"

"No." She stared at him in disbelief. "Why on earth would you do such a thing?"

Snape shrugged nonchalantly. "Because Draco likes to brag about his conquests, and I couldn’t very well let him muddy the Malfoy name by admitting to his _liaison_ with you. His parents would never forgive me."

His intentionally callous words struck Hermione like a blow to the stomach. A wave of nausea washed over her as she swallowed the acrid taste of her humiliation back down. "And here I thought you were going to lie and say that you did it to protect _my_ reputation," she replied bitterly.

"I _had_ assumed that you would be a bit more grateful."

"Well, you assumed wrong!"

"Obviously." He rose from his desk and stalked towards her. "What’s the matter, Miss Granger?" His contempt was etched clearly on his features and laced through his voice, "Were you hoping for another encounter with him?"

Hermione glared up at him, shocked by his accusation. "No!"

"Then why does it bother you so?" his voice was tight with barely controlled anger.

Hermione wasn't surprised by his jealousy, but there was also a hint of something else, something that was almost insecurity in his tone. Regardless of his motives for asking, it was a valid question. Unfortunately, she wasn’t even sure of the answer herself. "Because. You can’t ... you just don’t go around erasing people’s memories!" she sputtered, "It’s unethical."

Snape’s cold laughter filled the small room. "I have never claimed to be ethical."

"No, of course not." Hermione scowled at him. "That would require feelings. Something a cold-hearted ... _bastard_ like you would be totally incapable of!"

Snape glowered down at her. "Get out!" he commanded, his voice as icy as his glare.

"Fine!" Hermione turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Her anger carried her all the way back to Gryffindor tower. By the time she had reached the privacy of her curtained bed her rage had died down only to be replaced by a growing fear that this was the end. The possibility that he might toss her aside tied her stomach in knots. She curled into a tight ball hugging her knees to her chest, holding herself, and fervently hoped that it wasn’t over.

~*~

She didn’t dare try to visit him the following day, deciding instead to give him some time to calm down. When she entered Advanced Potions on Wednesday she was hopeful that she could approach him, but Snape’s aloof manner made her hesitate until she finally resolved to give him a few more days.

A week passed, and then another, but still he refused to acknowledge her presence in his classes. It was rapidly nearing the time when she would normally visit him for her monthly dose of the contraceptive potion he brewed for her. She debated going to him, but wondered what the point was if he was never going to look at her again, let alone touch her. In that moment, Hermione made up her mind. If he was going to continue to ignore her, then she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

The next time she entered his classroom she had a plan. As Snape began to lecture, Hermione allowed her Occlumency to lapse. She knew she needed him to look at her, if only for a second, so she kept her attention focused on his face. She was hoping that he would slip and she could catch his eyes.

About halfway through class it happened. Snape’s eyes swept the room, and she all but hurled the memory at him. He was standing in front of his desk ... she was kneeling ... unbuckling his belt ... zipper ... freeing his burgeoning erection ... looking up into those fathomless black eyes, and then ... a hissing gasp as lips and tongue met flesh ... his breathing growing more and more erratic, until ... shoved away ... his seed spilling out into a heavy ceramic goblet.

Snape’s gaze was still fixed on her, his eyes so cold that it sent shivers through Hermione. It wasn’t the reaction that she was hoping for, but still, it was a reaction. She allowed her longing, her sorrow, her fear and hope to flood her thoughts as he glared at her. Finally, something melted in that icy stare. Snape closed his eyes and turned away from her, and he never looked back.

Hermione took her time gathering up her things at the end of class in hopes that Snape would say something to her. She would have welcomed anything from him at that point, even a scathing reprimand. She was beyond frustrated with his obstinacy and was nearly ready to give up on him. Once more she cast her glance over to where he sat, studiously ignoring her lingering presence. She stared at him for a long moment, willing him to look at her. Snape stood then and her heart skipped a beat, but he walked right past her as if she were not even there, leaving her alone in the classroom. Sighing heavily, she picked up her bags and left.

As she walked down the hall, on her way to her next class, she told herself that she needed to let him go and just move on. Hermione was so wrapped up in her own dismal thoughts that she didn’t even notice the broom cupboard door opening in front of her until Snape grabbed her and pulled her inside. He had her pinned against the door and was freeing himself from his trousers before her eyes had even adjusted to the darkness of the tiny room.

"We don’t have time," she gasped as he nudged her knickers aside, "I’ll be late for class."

"Time is relative, Miss Granger. Besides," he said as he slipped a long, thin finger into her, "you’re already wet."

His silky whisper and warm breath against her ear sent shivers through her body. Hermione wrapped her legs around him eagerly as he grabbed her arse and lifted her off her feet. She didn’t really care how late she was going to be any longer. All that mattered was that he was here and that he still wanted her.

"Has it been so long?" he groaned against her ear as he entered her.

"Yes," she gasped, as he inched his way inside of her, reclaiming her with every thrust until he filled her completely. Hermione’s moans grew louder with each stroke as she revelled in his repossession of her.

"Control yourself," Snape hissed in her ear, "unless you wish to be discovered."

"I can’t," she gasped, "I can’t help it."

Snape gave her a long-suffering sigh, then covered her mouth with his own.

Hermione was lost in a haze of lust. The sounds coming from the hall were warped and distorted, as if time were passing much more slowly for the rest of the world than it was for them. She broke their kiss long enough to utter a single, questioning word, " _Brevitas_...?"

Her only answer was Snape silencing her again with his mouth, but her curiosity was soon forgotten as he drove them both to their shuddering release.

Snape paused only for a moment before pulling out of her and letting her slide back down the door. He directed a quick cleansing charm at them both and then straightened his clothing. "Come to my office tomorrow evening for your potion. Now go," he ordered, shoving her out of the broom cupboard almost before she had managed to compose herself.

Momentarily disoriented as she rejoined the masses in the hall, Hermione stumbled into Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin, Granger, you just can’t keep yourself off me, can you?" he taunted even as he caught her.

"You wish," Hermione grumbled, extricating herself from his grasp as she regained her balance.

Draco took in her dishevelled appearance and smirked. "What were you doing in there?"

"I.... Nothing," Hermione stammered.

Draco looked unconvinced. "Shall I tell the Weasel that he can come out now?" he asked as he reached for the door handle.

"No!" Hermione backed herself against the door. At Draco’s intrigued look she hastily added, "He’s already gone."

"You’re a horrible liar, Granger." Draco pushed her aside so that he could open the door.

Hermione tried to sound casual, "You’re wasting your time."

"We’ll see about that."

Hermione watched anxiously as he opened the door.

The smirk melted off Draco’s face. "It’s empty...."

Hermione could hear the disbelief in his voice. "I told you," she said, shrugging her shoulders at him.

Draco stared at her as if he didn’t quite believe her, but he closed the door anyway.

"Now, if you don’t mind," Hermione stated, "I’d really rather not be late for class."

Draco made a shooing motion at her. "Then run along, Granger."

Hermione didn’t need to be told twice. She turned away from the cupboard and strode off down the hall with a smile on her face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [_Hermione's Detention_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9080158) fits into the storyline right about here, btw. Just in case you haven't read it yet....
> 
> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


	10. Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione spends her last night at Hogwarts with Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the final chapter already. This one has a song associated with it - _I'll Remember You_ by Sophie Zelmani.

Hermione looked around the dorm room one last time. Satisfied that she hadn't forgotten anything, she closed her trunk, latched it and then picked up a stack of books from her bed.

"There's just one more thing I need to do," she said to Crookshanks as she scratched him between the ears.

Lost in thought, her feet carried her along a habitual route. When she reached Snape's office she shifted the books to one arm and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

His muffled voice caused a lump to rise in her throat. She took a deep breath before reaching for the knob and promised herself that she would not cry. She entered the room to find him sitting at his desk, as always.

"Professor." She nodded at him and he returned the gesture.

"Have a seat, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione sat down opposite him and folded her hands neatly on top of the stack of books in her lap to keep herself from fidgeting them and betraying her turmoil.

"Library books?" Snape questioned, eyeing the stack.

"I had meant to return them on my way here, but...." She shrugged her shoulders.

"No matter," Snape said.

He stood and Hermione's heart leapt up with him. She watched with measured interest as he walked over to a nearby shelf and procured a bottle and two goblets. He returned, setting the glasses on the desk so that he could uncork the bottle. When he had opened it, he poured a clear, golden liquid into each of the cups, filling them three fingers full. He stoppered the bottle and offered Hermione one of the glasses. Taking his seat again, he raised his glass to Hermione.

"A toast to your future, may it be as bright as you are."

Hermione could feel the heat rising in her cheeks even as her heart sank. "Thank you," she murmured, and lifted the goblet to her lips, taking a tentative sip of the strong liquid. It felt thick in her mouth and warm all the way down her throat. Hermione's eyesight blurred as her eyes began to tear. She blinked several times in rapid succession to clear her vision, and then looked at Snape. He smiled at her, clearly unaffected by the drink.

As she began to take another sip, Hermione noticed something odd. A door had appeared behind Snape that she had never noticed before. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and then looked again. The door was still there. Hermione peered into the glass that Snape had given her, swirling the golden liquid as if looking for an answer.

"Is there something wrong?" Snape asked, amused.

Hermione looked up at him. "I think I must be hallucinating."

"Why is that?" He was smirking at her now.

"Because, I see a door that wasn't here before," she replied.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, that that door has always been there," Snape asserted.

Hermione's brow knotted. "What did you put in my drink?"

"Conspicioserum," he stated as if it should be obvious.

"True sight serum?"

Snape nodded. "I'm glad to see that you have retained at least something of what I have tried to teach you."

He rose and came around the desk, offering his hand to Hermione. She stood up, placing her books on the abandoned seat, and allowed him to lead her over to the door. As they passed over the threshold, candles flickered to life in wrought iron sconces evenly spaced along a narrow passageway.

At the end of the hall was another door. Snape lightly traced an intricate rune over the worn surface with his fingertip. It glowed briefly and then the door swung open. Motioning Hermione to enter, he said, "After you."

Hermione paused. "What about the wards?"

"Commencement is over. You are no longer a student," Snape replied.

Hermione stepped into the dimly lit room and found herself in a cosy sitting room. Books lined every wall and a comfortable, oversized leather chair sat near the fireplace.

Snape flicked his wand and a small, crackling fire leapt to life in the hearth. Hermione looked around, stunned. Turning to face him, she asked, "Why?"

"Because," he stated, moving closer to her, "it’s what you wanted."

Hermione closed the distance between them, drawn in by him as inexplicably and inexorably as she always had been. He held her gaze captive with the intensity of his stare, so that her face was tilted to receive his kiss by the time she melted into his embrace. One hand cupped her face gently while the other, at her back, pulled her firmly against his lean body. He kissed her soundly, his tongue delving into the sweet recesses of her mouth, promising more than mere words could convey.

Hermione was breathless with desire when he finally released her. They stood there, gazing at each other for a long moment, neither one wanting to break the spell of their kiss with words. Hermione's heart was fluttering as rapidly as a Snitch. Arousal wasn't the only cause either, she was afraid.

"What happens now?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice.

"Well," Snape began, "I was planning on taking you to my bed and making you scream my name over and over until you are no longer capable of uttering a sound."

Hermione's body tightened at his statement, but she refused to allow herself to be so easily diverted. "You know that's not what I meant."

Snape sighed and released her.

"Will I ever see you again?"

He shook his head. "No."

She heard his answer, but she refused to believe him. "We might run into each other."

"I don't—"

"I'll be working at Flourish and Blotts. Surely there's the possibility that—" she broke off, swallowing the tight lump in her throat back down.

"No, Hermione. There isn't," he stated firmly.

"Please," she begged, as her composure shattered. Her lip trembled as she spoke, "Please," she whispered again. Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Just say maybe, someday. Please. You never know...." The look in his eyes told her what her heart did not want to know. She bowed her head, unable to bear the sight of that harsh truth.

Snape reached out and lifted her chin. His gaze was almost as soft as the silky caress of his voice, "No regrets, Hermione. Remember?"

She nodded, still sniffling. Snape pulled a handkerchief out his coat pocket and handed it to her.

"Thank you." Hermione took the hankie from him and dabbed her cheeks with it, wiped her nose, then handed it back.

Snape took it back gingerly and tucked it back into his pocket. Then he held his hand out to her. "Do you still wish to stay?"

In answer, Hermione placed her hand in his. It was far too late for her to walk away. Better to stay and endure the bittersweet torment of knowing it was over, than to leave and forever regret her choice.

He led her into his bedchamber. The diffused glow from the sitting room fireplace showed a sparsely furnished room. A large, darkly draped bed consumed most of the space. An armoire, hulking in one corner, balanced the visual weight of the bed. Near the door was a plain, wooden chair. Snape divested himself of his frock coat and placed it upon the chair, then drew Hermione with him towards his bed.

Her hands trembled as she reached out to unbutton his crisp, white shirt. Her thoughts flashed back to the first time they were together and the memories flooded through her. She pushed them back with practised ease and focused on her task.

Snape had the cuffs undone by the time she pushed the shirt down his arms. When he was free of the garment he grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it over her head, tossing it aside. He set upon removing her jeans next, and soon she was standing there in her undergarments.

He pulled her against his body and ran his hands over her curves as he possessed her mouth. Manoeuvring them both around, he sat down on the edge of the bed. His nimble fingers quickly released her breasts from their cloth and wire prison. He buried his face in her cleavage, inhaling her scent before turning to capture one of her nipples between his teeth.

Hermione gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he nibbled and suckled on her breasts. She let out a small moan when his fingers slipped between her thighs and began to tease her through the silky fabric of her knickers.

It was not long before he pushed her panties down until they fell around her ankles, and Hermione had to step out of them or be hobbled. No longer hindered, Snape went back to tantalising her with his dextrous fingers.

In no time at all Hermione was weak-kneed and trembling with want. She clung desperately to him, afraid that if she let go her legs would betray her. Little, mewling sounds escaped her lips and shivers wracked her body in waves driven by his ministrations.

Snape lifted her off her feet as he stood abruptly, and she let out a startled cry as she frantically wrapped her legs around him. Turning them both around, he fell forward onto the bed with Hermione beneath him, eliciting another startled cry from her.

His eyes flashed with amusement before he stole a quick but passionate kiss from her. Hermione pouted as he moved away from her, but brightened as soon as he began to strip off his remaining clothing. When he was finished, he leaned over her, pressing his hardness against her aching heat, and kissed her deeply. He worked his way down her body, lingering only briefly at her breasts. When he came to a stop, his warm breath was teasing her inner thighs.

A fleeting lick nearly made Hermione come up off the bed, and she only settled again as he began to tend to her need in earnest. She rested her knees over his shoulders, and tucked the tops of her feet just under his ribcage. Hermione clawed at the bedcovers, gasping and moaning as his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh and his tongue drove her mad. He delved inside her, lapping at her drenched sex, and all the while his prodigious nose rubbed and bumped against her clit until she cried out her release.

She was still panting and shuddering as he drove two fingers deep inside her to manipulate that place which she had christened her "magic spot." She had hardly caught her breath when her body tensed again. Her back arched away from the mattress, her toes curled, and her body tightened around his fingers spasmodically. Instead of backing off, he fell upon her mound again with his teeth and tongue, his fingers still buried in her dripping core. Hermione thrashed and whimpered and begged for mercy as one orgasm rolled into another.

She had nearly given up on trying to breathe between gasps and moans, when he withdrew his fingers from her slippery folds and began to lick her like a languid kitten grooming itself. Her body felt as if lightning had struck her, and the energy still thrummed along her nerves. She inhaled deeply, filling her burning lungs with air, and let it out in a long sigh.

Snape rose up to his full height and surveyed Hermione’s condition with a self-satisfied smirk "Had enough?" he asked.

Hermione lolled her head from side to side and managed to utter a single word, "No."

"Good, because I’ve only begun." Snape positioned himself at her entrance and slid into her with an appreciative groan. Once seated, he hooked her knees over his arms, grabbed her hips and began his usual, near brutal rhythm provoking Hermione into an almost instantaneous and explosive orgasm.

"Ooh, gods! Severus! Sweet Merlin! Oh, Severus!" was Hermione’s near constant mantra.

Snape maintained his merciless pace for an impossibly long time. He scarcely allowed her to recover from one peak, before the next one tore through her body. Hermione began to wonder, in the moments in which she was lucid, if he had dosed himself with some sort of virility potion prior to her arrival, or if he had just been holding back previously. The latter seemed unlikely, but one could never be quite certain with Severus Snape.

It was almost with a sense of relief that Hermione noticed that Snape had stopped. She wondered briefly if he had reached his conclusion without her noticing, but when he withdrew himself she saw that that was most definitely not the case.

He pulled her upright and the room titled precariously around her. "Too fast?" he asked as he steadied her.

Hermione nodded, then rested her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes while she waited for the room to stop spinning.

After a moment he said, "Turn around," and guided her by the shoulders. He let his hands roam her body. The hard length of him pressed against the small of her back. With the tip of his tongue, he traced the outline of her ear and then a path down the side of her neck. He nibbled and sucked on her shoulder for a moment before working his way back up to her ear. "Something to remember me by," he whispered, before he pushed her forward onto the bed.

Snape drove himself into her again. Every thrust hitting the spot that made her scream until her throat was dry and her voice ragged with use. He kept true to his stated intentions and did not allow himself his release until Hermione was reduced to faltering gasps and rasping moans. Then he collapsed next to her, breathing heavily and covered in a fine sheen of sweat from his exertions.

They lay there in silence for a while, until their racing pulses slowed to a more reasonable pace. Snape was the first to rise. He strolled into the adjacent bathroom and returned shortly to find Hermione curled up on the edge of the bed, seemingly asleep.

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"Sit up a bit, pet."

Her eyes fluttered open. As she propped herself up on one elbow, she saw that Snape was holding a small, cobalt vial which he was unstopping.

"Open your mouth," he instructed.

Hermione tried to ask what was in the vial, but all that came out was a mousy sort of squeak.

"This will help," Snape assured her as he raised the vial to her lips. "Drink."

Hermione swallowed the bitter liquid and grasped her throat, grimacing as it burned its way down. Snape drew the covers back for her, and she crawled under them, making herself comfortable as he tucked her in.

"You’ll be back to your usual loquacious self by morning. Now rest."

Snape returned the empty vial to its cabinet, tended the fire, and then went to bed. Hermione slept curled on one side, facing away from him. He pulled her closer, moulded his body to hers, and promptly fell asleep.

~*~

Hermione awoke slowly. She could feel the press of Snape’s lean body behind her. His deep, even breathing told her that he was still asleep. Careful not to wake him, she extricated herself from his embrace. She knew it must be early morning, although how he kept track of time remained a mystery to her. She sat on his bed, unmoving, simply watching him. She imagined that she could hear his heart beating as she observed the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. It echoed her own.

Her gaze meandered over his sleeping form. Staring at his thin lips, she recalled how soft they felt against her flesh. _Did he know what he wanted,_ she wondered, _the times he kissed me?_ His hand rested on her abandoned pillow, and his arm seemed somehow lonelier for her absence. _Will he ever miss me?_ Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

She was glad that he still slept. She knew she would never be able to say goodbye to him. Walking away from him now was almost more than she could bear. She stood and dressed quietly, before she could change her mind. Then she returned to his bedside. "I will remember you," she whispered softly as she leaned over and placed a feather-light kiss on his nose, and then turned to leave. "That’s all that I can do," she added as a silent tear slid down her cheek.

Hermione moved silently through the sitting room and cautiously turned the doorknob to let herself out. Once back in his office, she retrieved her books and slipped out unnoticed. She wandered the halls aimlessly, taking in every portrait, every stone, every crack as if she would memorise them all. When at last the halls came to life with students on their way to breakfast, Hermione made her way to the fourth floor.

Madam Pince sat at her desk, no doubt going over the list of students who still had books checked out. "Ah, Miss Granger. Returning books I trust?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Very good," she said, as she rose to welcome back her precious charges.

Hermione set the books on the counter and stared at them absently as the sour faced librarian examined them for signs of misuse.

"Excellent, as usual," Madam Pince began, but the words died on her lips as she looked from the books to Hermione. She quickly pulled a hankie from her pocket and pressed it into Hermione’s hand. "Dab your face, child," she prompted. "Quickly! I won’t have you marring the covers with tear stains."

Hermione apologised as she dried her face. "I’m sorry," she sniffled. "It’s just that," she stopped, realising that she couldn’t say what was bothering her.

"I understand," Madam Pince patted Hermione’s hand. "I feel the same way about them."

"Them?" Hermione wondered aloud.

The ancient librarian nodded. "They’re like children to me, really."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, catching on. Her eyes took on a far away look as she continued, "They’re full of intelligence and strength ... passion," her voice trailed off.

"Precisely," Madam Pince agreed.

"They’re really quite undervalued." Hermione’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes again. "And I shall miss _them_ terribly," she sobbed into the hankie.

"Of course you will, Miss Granger," Madam Pince consoled. "But I dare say that working at Flourish and Blotts will give you the opportunity to sample a wide variety of books."

"Yes, I suppose—" Hermione started to agree with her. "Wait. How did you know that?"

Madam Pince gave Hermione a shrewd look. "I’m a librarian, Miss Granger. I have connections at every seller of wizarding books on the British Isles, as well as several abroad."

"I see." Hermione handed the handkerchief back to Madam Pince. "Thank you."

The stern librarian gave her a curt nod, and then went back to her work.

Hermione wandered over to a table and sat down. Lost in her own thoughts she didn’t notice Ron and Harry enter.

"There she is," Harry said to Ron.

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron called, and was immediately hissed at by Madam Pince for disturbing the quietude of her library. Ron turned to Harry. "We should’ve known she’d be here."

Harry nodded as they made there way over to the table.

Hermione was startled out of her reverie by Ron’s voice. Now she sat, watching them approach, while trying to school her face into a mask of serenity.

"We’ve been looking all over for you," Ron said as he sat down.

"Yeah," Harry added. "It’s almost time to leave."

"I know; I just had some books that I needed to return."

"Where were you last night?" Ron asked. "We were going to invite you to the Room of Requirement to celebrate our last night at Hogwarts, but we couldn’t find you."

"Did you check the map?" Hermione tried to keep the rising panic out of her voice.

Ron shot Harry a meaningful glance, which Harry ignored. "I had already packed it away."

"Yeah, and he couldn’t be arsed to dig it back out again."

Harry sighed. "I told you, Ron, it was at the bottom of my trunk. I would have had to—"

"Take everything out again. I know. I know," Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione smiled, partly in amusement and partly in relief. "I see," she said. "I’m sorry. I just ... I wanted to be alone last night."

"It’s all right, Hermione," Ron said. "We were just worried about you, that’s all."

"Well, we should probably leave soon," Harry said. "The train won’t wait forever."

Hermione sat, staring out of the train window, watching Hogwarts slowly shrink on the horizon. She hardly noticed the warm, wet trail of tears running down her cheeks as she thought of Snape. Her mind conjured up an image of him, standing near a window, watching after her, but she dismissed it as wishful thinking.

Harry crossed the small car, and sat down next to her. "You alright, Hermione?" he asked softly.

"Yeah." She nodded, her gaze still fixed on the now diminutive castle.

"I’ll miss it too." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hogwarts was home to me for seven years."

After a few minutes of silence, Harry decided that Hermione wasn’t going to respond, so he got up and went back to sit with Ron.

"She alright?" Ron whispered.

"Yeah," Harry said, "She’s just sad to leave, I think. We all are."

"Not me," Ron replied. "I couldn’t wait to get out of there."

"Yeah, well, if I had a home like the Burrow to go back to, maybe I’d feel that way too."

"You do, mate," Ron said, suddenly serious.

"I know, Ron." Harry took Ron’s hand and gave it a squeeze. "I know."

Hermione watched them surreptitiously as the train rattled towards London and their future. What lay in store for them all was anyone’s guess. Hermione had thought that the three of them would always be together, facing life the same way that they had faced Voldemort – strengthened and complimented by each other’s friendship. She wondered at the path that had led her away from them, and wished that she could see where the end lay. Perhaps then she wouldn’t feel as if she had been cast adrift without a compass. With a small sigh of resignation, she closed her eyes and dreamt of a happy ending.

~ _fin_ ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the goddess that is J.K.R. I'm just borrowing them to live out my own twisted fantasies. I do this purely for my own enjoyment. I make no money from it, claim no rights to it, and have a mortal fear of lawyers.


End file.
